


flower boy. | tewksbury x reader

by cdo499



Category: Enola Holmes (2020)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, F/M, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, enola is a lesbian, in which reader is a viscountess, viscount tewksbury x reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:21:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 21,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26745073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cdo499/pseuds/cdo499
Summary: In which you are Viscountess ______ Morgan, and you find some difficulty in being in love.- - - - -the prologue is skippable :)- - - - -inconsistent updates- - - - -i am indeed jumping on the tewksbury train mwah
Relationships: Viscount “Tewky” Tewksbury/Reader
Comments: 17
Kudos: 83





	1. | prologue |

**Author's Note:**

> i hope y’all enjoy this! i finished the first chapter at like 3am so :D

His mother and uncle were speaking to him, his mother fussing about his appearance.

"Please, mother, don't." he smiled at her. "I'm trying to have these mens' respect. It's quite the style, you know."

His mother sighed. "Yes, I suppose it sets off your face nicely."

"Your father would be very proud of you." His uncle added.

The viscount smiled. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a messy head of brown hair. He looked to see who it was. 

His eyes met brown.

The boy turned to greet her.

"Congratulations," Enola said as he approached. "You finally look like the nincompoop you were born to be."

Tewksburys' face flushed. He looked to his shoes.

"No. You look good." Enolas' hands flailed about as she tried to calm him down. "This is- good."

Tewksbury smiled. "The vote is in an hour, it's um, it's quite the thing."

"I'm not supposed to bow or anything, am i?" Enolas' eyes widened. "Now that you are, well, whatever you are?"

"Well, arguably, you always had to bow." His smile only grew. "You just chose not to."

"So are you safe? You-" Enolas' horrid lodging came to mind. “Are you comfortable? You're not still living in that terrible lodgings house, are you?"

"No." She firmly said. "I used the reward money your mother gave me-"

"Which you reluctantly took-"

"-and found somewhere new."

 _I can try._ "Well, mother has said that there's um, there's always room for you with us."

Enola chuckled. "Your mother clearly hasn't spent enough time with me."

 _Once more._ "And what if it was I.." He looked down for a second. "..Who asked you to stay?"

The girl smiled, smaller this time. "A kind offer," Don't get your hopes up, Tewksbury. "But one I must refuse."

A silence brewed between them, one that was sadder and seemed longer than the rest. It seemed like forever, like something was being said, longer than one of his uncles' lectures.

"H-how will I-" The boy paused to regain his composure. "When will I see you again?"

Enola scoffed. "You're not rid of me yet, Viscount Tewksbury, Marquess of Basilwether."

She wrapped her hand around his, which he didn't notice was holding on to one of the bars that separated them. He held it back, the urge to reach through the gates and pull her into a deep hug.

Instead, he settled for a polite kiss on her hand. 

Enola only smiled and turned to leave.

A tear fell down the boys' cheek as he watched the girl he's been in love with for months walk away from him.

"Maybe if you liked men.." He whispered to himself, heartbroken. He knew she had to leave. She had better things to do than stand around a useless boy.

It hurt, but he had to speak to the lords.


	2. one: westminster palace

The interior of the House of Parliament was grand indeed. High ceilings, big decorations, many, many colored dresses.

Alas, it was not for me, was it?

I followed my mother to the lobby next to St. Stephen's Chapel. She had pointed to a seat and told me to wait.

For what? I had asked.

She had left before I could get an answer.

And so I waited.

For about five seconds.

I could _feel_ the hustle and bustle of the crowd. The nobles, the ladies, the gentlemen! 

I wanted so desperately to be swept up in the crowd, to be out, _socializing_ , being human with them.

But I'd never hear the end of it. Not from mother, not from my grandfather, not from Will. And yet, it was so tempting. 

So instead, I hung around the open door. It met its Southwest corner with the Northeast corner of the large Westminster Hall. 

There was idle chatter, polite laughter, and the occasional friendly (or not) jab. One name I had heard quite frequently was "Viscount Tewksbury". It was usually accompanied with "boy" or "runaway" or "House of Lords". Which was very interesting to me, since even though I was at Westminster Palace, I had no recollection of what the fabled 'House of Lords' was, except that one of my brothers, I am still unsure which, was in it.

There was, of course, the frequent opening and closing of the palace's grand doors. It would always add at least two more voices to the crowd and sometimes a squeal of excitement or two. Or five.

One peculiar opening and closing of the giant doors brought upon at least seven simultaneous squeals and a hush from the ones who kept mentioning the Tewksbury name. 

"So it is the Viscount Tewksbury who has arrived, is it?" I said to myself.

All of a sudden there were fingertips on my back-

"BOO!"

I jumped, of course.

"Will!" I exclaimed.

My older brother smiled.

"Cheeky." I said with a scowl.

He ran his fingers through his hair. "What of the Viscount?" He asked.

"It seems he is the one who hushed the entire Westminster Hall." 

Will peeked out the doorway, searching.

"Are you looking for him?" I asked.

A fist arrived on the top of my head. "Ow."

"Yes, you buffoon." Will said, not glancing at me for even a second.

"Well, if he's here, shouldn't you get going?"

He gave me an inquisitive look. 

"To the Lords?"

He let out a small chuckle. "If I were the one in the Lords, I'd have already been there."

"So Andrew is the one in the Lords?" I asked him. Andew was my older brother, older than me by years but younger than Will by about seven minutes.

Will nodded. "Do you really believe Mother would put me in such a position?"

I opened my mouth, but closed it again. He had a point. Will may have been the eldest son, but he was definitely more brute than brain. He knew more war strategy than politics or algebra.

"Excuse me." 

Will and I turned to meet the voice, who was a prim and proper woman with a tiny waist.

"Oh!" I grabbed my idiot brothers' arm and pulled him away from the door, where there was a line of noblewomen being created, waiting to enter the room.  
~

The ladies, in all their colorful and frankly, uncomfortable looking, garb, poured into the lobby. One of the more memorable ladies seemed to be the Marchioness of Basilwether, the talk of the evenings' mother.

Politics was never interesting, but was still necessary. Besides, this woman was intriguing to me, so i took a seat on the other side of the room that faced her direction.

Will had left as the women entered, leaving me to fend for myself. He said that the 'feminine energy was too overwhelming' and that my androgynous energy was not enough to keep him in the room.

That idiot left me to the sharks.

There may have been a few notable ladies in the room worth talking to, but that option was immediately squashed after they all joined the hoarde surrounding the poor Marchioness.

I would have done the same as well, had _I_ not been flocked around by the ones who were also unmarried.

They kept fussing about around me, tightening each others' corsets and telling each other that they'd help their families find husbands for themselves.

All the while, I was sat there, in the middle of their rabble, trying to read and sip my tea as _gracefully_ as possible.

Before one of the pompous buffoons bumped into me and spilled the tea over my sleeve, leaving it brown, wet, and almost scalding.

At least it missed the book.

"Oh my stars!" The one who spilled it covered her mouth with her hands. She couldn't be older than fourteen or fifteen. "I am so deeply sorry!"

I couldn't force a smile through my burning skin, so I tried to say it in the sweetest way possible. "I will forgive you once you've helped me dry off, my darling."

She nodded, grabbed a cloth from god knows where, and led me out to an empty room down the hall, after going down two small flights of stairs. It wasn't furnished more than the usual sitting chairs and tables.

"Here you go." She gave the cloth to me and started wandering the slightly slanted walls.

I pulled down the neck of my dress to reveal my right shoulder and arm, the area that was most affected. I wrapped the beige cloth around it and tied a knot.

"How does one cup of tea possibly hold so much liquid?" I muttered to myself. "Emilia is going to have to assist me once we get home."

All of a sudden, the other girl appeared in front of me, holding a pink cloth and needle with a white thread in its eye.

I cocked my head to the side. "Whatever are you going to do with that?"

She smiled. "I am going to help sew you a new sleeve!"

I couldn't help but smile at the gesture. "Of course, um, what was your name?"

"Countess Alice Hill!" She put the sewing materials down and reached out to shake my hand. "And yours?"

"Viscountess Morgan." I smiled, taking her hand.

After a few seconds of shaking our hands, I let go.

"Now, Countess Hill," I said. Her eyes met mine. "You better get working on that sleeve if we're to get out of here before nightfall."

She chuckled. "Of course, Viscountess Morgan."

And so she did. I sat on the edge of one of the tables, nursing my arm, and Alice, fifteen, she said, sat on one of the chairs,  
sewing away. 

We talked quite a bit. I haven't felt this connected to someone since I first met Emilia.

~

The sleeve the Countess Hill had sewn up for me had almost perfectly fit me, and the way it was sewn made it look like an accented area of the dress. I still took a small cloth to cover up the seam just in case.

"Shall we go?" The Countess asked, hand out. 

I grabbed it. "Hopefully we'd have made it back in time." And ran out into the hall, barely dodging people and decorations alike as we sped out to the lobby.

I stopped in front of the door, which was partially open. We were both panting quite a bit.

"Running in a corset and dress is difficult." The Countess said.

"Oh, I know." I replied.

We took a moment to gather ourselves and stepped inside the room.

The other ladies who flocked around us earlier called out to us, asking if everything went well.

"Well, yes," I said, pulling down the cloth on the sleeve the Countess had made for me. "But the Countess Hill had to fix my sleeve up a bit."

Smiles all around, even from the Marchioness.

~

Yet, somehow, it turned into a debate.

The Marchioness was speaking of how the think they do everything in the household when it is the woman who are there to advise and assist them.

Some buffoon lady decided to disagree.

And now we're here.

I am so _very_ close to standing on the table and throwing a book at someone.

I stood.

"Women deserve everything the men have." I said simply.

Many of the women looked at me in admiration, _a mere child_ , they must be thinking.

Well, ladies, this _child_ knows more than you do.

"What gives men the right to command us?" I asked. "Who allowed that to happen?"

I walked over to the middle of a room and stunned silence. "If this Viscount Tewksbury is an advocate for all men, then why can't women be included in that as well?"

"Because the Lords would never approve of that if I included women."

The voice came from the doorway my back was facing.

I turned.

Not looking at the face of the boy who had just entered, I paced around him.

"And why is that?" I asked.

"Who knows?" He answered. "But personally, I believe that it is blasphemy for the women to be cooped up at home doing nothing when so many women I have met are much smarter than those men in the Lords."

I let out a small laugh. "You could never say that in front of them," I looked at his outfit up and down. "They'd never let you in the Lords again."

"Exactly." He said. "Now will you please stop pacing and look at me?"

I stopped moving when I was facing his back. "Fine." I muttered.

I moved a few steps more, and just as I was facing his front, I looked up at him.

_Oh my._

He was gorgeous. More beautiful than any of the women in the room. His brown hair was a little disheveled, but it was charming. It seems freshly cut and was swept to reveal his face. He was standing with his hands behind his back, chin up. His eyes seemed to pore into everything, they seemed to see everything in a beautiful light. Like they saw things in a different light than others.

"Viscount Tewksbury, Marquess of Basilwether." He said, hand outstretched. I had to bring my left eyebrow down to its normal position on my face.

I took his hand and shook it. "Viscountess Morgan."

He pressed his lips to my hand.

I had to turn away. There was a furious flush coming to my cheeks.

"Well then, Viscountess Morgan," He said with a small smirk, "I do hope to see you again. You seem like a lively spirit."

"You don't know the half of it, Viscount Tewksbury." I said, "But the sentiment is returned. I hope to speak like this to you again."

He looked into my eyes and saw something there. No, not an eyelash. It was something that made his smirk grow after he let go of my hand and drift over to his mother.

I stayed in the same spot, staring at the ground.

"Well then, Mother?"

I heard the Marchioness getting up. 

"Homeward bound already?" She asked.

"It has been too long in the same room with old men." He chuckled.

They left the room, leaving me behind with the sharks again.

~

"Your face is so red, Viscountess Morgan!" One of them said.

"You seem stuck to the ground, Viscountess! Are you alright?" Asked another.

"My stars, Viscountess! I never thought the Marquess of Basilwether would be the one to pique your interest!" said Countess Morgan.

"You have only known me for about three hours, Countess." I replied. 

And that brought upon squeals of delight from so many of the ladies.

_Oh dear. Someone save me._

A knock on the doorway. I looked hopefully in its direction, and thank GOD.

It was Andrew and Will.

'Save me.' I mouthed.

They did, thank god.

And it was only moments until we were back in the carriage with our mother. 

~

"So, ," Mother started, "The Viscount Tewksbury, is it?"

Andrew and Wills' eyes made their way over to me, and two eyebrows were raised.

"What's this about the Marquess?" Andrew asked.

"Did he do something?" Will asked.

"I-" I did not know where to start with that. I cleared my throat. "It is nothing. Father has probably married me off to some rich man anyway." 

"Good point." Will said.

"But," Andrew pointed his finger to me, "The Marquess is very noble. He believes in equal power for all men."

"I know, Andrew." I said. "That is the start of the situation in the lobby."

All three of them looked at me with an inquisitive look.

"The Marchioness was complaining about how men think they do all the work everywhere when it is the women in their life that guide them down their paths." I started. They all nodded. "But, some prim buffoon decided to interject and disagree. That led to a whole argument, which was heavily leaning on the side of equal rights for all."

I breathed in. "So I said that women deserve everything men have." My family nodded in approval. "Which I may or may not have followed up with asking why the Viscount Tewksbury does not advocate for rights for everyone, including women."

"Then what?" Will asked.

"Be patient, brother." Andrew shushed him.

"Then he _himself_ said it was because the Lords would never allow it."

"He was there the whole time?" Mother asked.

"It seems only from the tail end of the debate."

"Then what?"

~


	3. two: home

We soon arrived home. Our carriage, pulled by brown mares, slowed to a stop in front of the white, overgrown villa we call home. Mother was the first to step out, and also the first one to find Sophies' small arms around her.

"Mother!" She greeted, running into our old lady. Her hair was pulled back as usual, and her legs were in trousers rather than a skirt, and no gloves.

"You look so comfy, Sophie," I said, exiting the carriage after our mother. "I'll have to change as well. This corset is suffocating."

"They are, sister." Sophie wrapped her arms around me. "That's why I dress like the gardeners!" She said with a smile. 

Our brothers were also exiting the carriage, so she let go of me and greeted them as well. I walked ahead, calling for my servant, Emilia.

"Emilia?"

The brunettes' voice called from around a corner up ahead. "Yes, ______?"

I followed the clear voice to a sitting room, where she seemed to have just finished tidying up.

"Could you prepare some lounging clothes out for me?"

"Similar to Sophies'?"

"Of course," I nodded, "It always is." 

She bowed and left the room. I unshelved a book and took a seat.

Emilia was like an older sister to me, as were all my siblings' servants. Our mother always made the servants feel as if they were extended family, even going so far as raising our personal servants with us. She took in orphans, young parents, and the elderly. Those who had never found work, as well. 

She had always been kind, no matter who was speaking to her, for as long as I could remember. Many of the servants looked to her like a mother or an aunt.

Will and Andrews' servants were also brothers, and Sophies' was also the youngest daughter. 

Emilia and I were both the eldest daughters, as well.

The servants and the ones they served were inseparable, now that I think about it.

~

It was only a matter of time until the chaos moved to the dining table.

And by chaos I mean my siblings, our servants, and the children of the working servants.

Our home is a shelter now, and I would hate to see that ruined.

But there is paint water being spilled everywhere and broken pastels scattered on the floorboards.

There was boisterous laughter and smiles wherever you looked, however. And it was beautiful.

But they have to clean this up afterwards.

_No matter._

I got on my hands and knees to help the smaller children on the floor.

The chatter was lively, akin to a party, although less formal.

The cooks had started setting the table, moving all the children to the floor or to the servants' dining room.

I saw my brothers and their servants carrying two or even three children each. 

"Don't break your backs!" I yelled, guiding two children out of the room as well.

The older children stayed behind to clean up after their siblings.

It was then that our father, Viscount James Morgan, appeared in the dining room.

Everyone in our family was in loungewear, and he was still dressed for the day.

"You're home late, dear." I heard Mother say.

"I had more things to discuss than usual." He replied in his usual gruff voice.

~

Within a few moments, all the servants were out of the dining room and we were sitting at the table.

Sophie lead the prayer, and it was now silent, the only sound coming from any of us a cough or a sip.

"You know, father," Andrew started, with a look in his eyes, "______ here met the Viscount Tewksbury today."

Father looked up at him. "I don't see how that is important."

"No, father," Will continued. "It was how starstruck ______ was upon meeting him."

Sophies' eyes widened. "You didn't say anything about this, ______!"

I laughed. "Nothing happened, Sophie."

Laughter from everyone but Father. 

Sophie raised an eyebrow. "Really now?"

"I don't see what could have happened," I looked down into my dish. "We simply had a conversation."

"Are you sure you haven't fallen in love, ______?" Will said.

"I think I would know if I fell in love, brother." I said, dabbing the corners of my mouth with a napkin. "Besides, I simply said that the Viscount was a good looking fellow."

"I'd have to agree." Mother said. "His eyes are a perfect shade of brown, and it was said that he looked into your soul, my child."

I laughed. "I would be surprised if he saw anything there, mother."

More laughter, this time louder.

"It may simply be a crush, if anything." I said.

"That would be for the best." A deep voice said.

All our heads turned to Father.

"Why so?" Will, Andrew, Sophie and I asked simultaneously.

Mother grasped his arm, an angry look on her face. " _You did not._ " 

"But I did." Father replied.

"Did what?" I asked.

Will and Andrews' faces fell. Andrew placed his utensils down, and Will placed his face in his palm.

Silence.

Sophie realized it too.

"What is it, Sophie?" I tugged on one of her sleeves. "What has he done?"

"He's-"

"He's married you off." Will interrupted. 

" _You did not._ " _I can't believe this._

"Without anyone elses' knowledge?" _I can't believe this._

"Without my consent?" _I can't believe this!_

"Without so much as a warning?" I was on the verge of shouting. 

" _I thought you believed in women making their own decisions!_ "

No answer, just him spooning food into his mouth like nothing of importance had happened.

"I can't _believe_ you, father." I said.

"Who?" Andrew asked with a tone.

Father swallowed and took a long swig from his cup.

"Who?" Mother asked. 

Father cleared his throat and stood. "______ Morgan is to be wed to the young Earl, Anthony Hill."

 _An Earl?_ I scoffed. "Of course it was for power." I said, as firmly as I could.

It came out as more of a frustrated whisper.

I slammed my fists on the table and stood.

"Goodnight." I said, taking my plate and cup.

I walked as fast as I could to my room upstairs without spilling anything. Two or three pairs of feet followed. 

_Down the hall._

_Up the stairs._

_Turn the corner._

_Down the hall again._

_Third door to the right._

_Open the door._

_Slam it shut._

~

I sank to the floor with my back to the closed door. My cup in one hand, plate of food in the other. The knife had slipped off the plate, but I frankly did not care at that moment.

I ate the food as fast as I could, spilling it all over my trousers and onto the floor.

I did not care.

There was knocking at my door, accompanied with worried "______?"s and faint shouting from below.

I did not care.

I finished my drink and set the plate and cup on a desk close to the door.

"I will have to be _elegant?_ Blasphemy."

The possibility of the Earl being an old crone came to the front of my mind.

"I might have to marry a middle aged man! I will have to give him children!" Another thing came to my mind. "Oh dear, I will have to act helpless!"

I slammed my fists on the desk and paced around my room.

"I will lose everything I have!"

"Not if your husband sees common sense, ______." 

I faced the door.

"Come in, Emilia." I said with a sigh.

She opened the door, revealing Will and Sophie.

I nodded.

They came into the room.

"Father!" I heard from below.

"James! She is not an object!"

"We need the money."

"We do _not._ "

"Please close the door." I requested.

Sophie nodded and shut the door, which only stifled the arguing in the dining hall.

Emilia walked towards me, a soft look in her eyes. Will leaned against the bedpost with a concerned face.

"I am fi-"

"No, you are not." Emilia interrupted, pulling me into a hug. She was warm.

I hugged her back.

Wills' hands were on my back as well. "We are here for you, ______. We will fight this, I swear."

I smiled.

Sophie trotted over to join our small hug. "We are here to keep you company, sister."

"Okay, come now, girls," Will led us to the large bed and lightly pushed us down. "We must stay here and comfort her until dawn, if needed."

"I will get more cups and water." Emilia said, pulling away.

Will moved to my bookshelf and picked a few well-read books. Sophie pulled away to get a sketchbook and painting materials.

I stayed sprawled out on the bed, staring at the cloth ceiling of the bed.

I was upset.

Of course I was.

But there was more than just the anger of being married off.

There was something else.

_What was it?_

My thoughts were interrupted by two weights falling on the bed beside me, and smaller weights by the foot of the bed. The door was creaking open with the arrival of two more people.

I craned my neck to see Andrew opening the door for Emilia, who was holding a tray with five cups and a pitcher on it.

Andrew sat on the edge of the bed, close to my face. He looked at the door, lost in thought.

"How did it go?" Sophie asked.

He scoffed. "Please, Sophie. You know how it went if I am here."

Will smacked his arm.

"Sorry," Andrew muttered and reclined. "Father and I were shouting when Mother told me to leave."

Emilia sat down on the other side of my head. She stroked my head and my hair in an attempt to calm me down.

Andrew took off his coat, threw it on the ground and started looking for the edge of the blanket.

It took him a few minutes, but he was cozy soon enough.

He beckoned everyone under the blanket.

"Cramped." I muttered.

"At least it isn't with the Earl." Will said.

I chuckled. "You have a point there."

~

I think I was the first to fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> conflict :)


	4. three: meetings of a certain kind

It took me some time to actually open my eyes the next morning.

I was facing the door, which was slightly ajar. I could see Alan, Paul, and Lydia (Andrew, Will, and Sophies' servants) chatting outside in the hallway while working. Turning my head a small bit, I saw Emilia tidying up the room. There was a mess on the floor, paintbrushes, pencils, and books were scattered on the carpet, and I could spot quite a few colored stains.

Emilia noticed my eyes following her. 

She sat down on the edge of the bed. "How are you now, ______?" She said, placing one of her hands in mine.

I looked around me, and it seemed that my siblings were still asleep near me. Will had occupied the opposite side of the bed from mine, Sophie was inbetween us, and Andrew had no choice but to sleep at the mercy of our feet.

"Where did _you_ sleep?" I asked.

Emilia smiled. "I slept on the sitting chair." She pointed to the cushioned seating next to the window, facing the bed.

"Oh my," I said, sitting up. "Was it comfortable, at least?"

She nodded. "You must get up now," She let go of my hand and returned to tidying up the room. "Your mother is waiting for you at the dining table." 

"Where shall I change?" 

"In Sophies' room, ______."

"And so I shall." I took out a dress and matching corset that I felt I could last in for an entire day. "Here goes nothing." I muttered.

I went through the door, greeting the servants and asking Lydia for assistance.

~

I arrived in the dining room to see Mother dressed in clothes similar to mine, staring straight ahead while gripping her utensils.

"Mother?" 

That seemed to grab her attention.

"Oh, hello, dear," She said, a small, if not forced, smile on her face. "Come sit down." She patted the seat beside her.

I obeyed. "What's this about, mother?"

She replied with a heavy sigh and ate a bit of the food on her plate.

"Your father decided that we go and meet your soon-to-be, my love."

I was in the middle of slicing my food. I stopped slicing and placed my utensils down.

"I know you don't like it, ______," Mother held my right hand with both of hers. "No one does."

I stood and started pacing around the table. "Except father."

No reply.

I looked at her. "So he does like it, then."

"He says we need the money-"

"Mother, we live in a _mansion_ with _servants_ that has turned into a _shelter!_ " I interrupted, my hands slammed on the head of the table across from her.

Silence from Mother. Sets of footsteps growing closer.

"Woah there, ______!" 

"What's happened?"

I turned to face my siblings.

Sophie saw the look on my face and wrapped me in a hug.

Andrew walked over to Mother and asked what she had told me.

"We are to meet her fiancé today." 

Will threw his hands in the air. "Oh, for f-"

"Hold your tongue, Will."

"How could I?" Will was the one pacing now. I had sat back down on my previous seat. "We had only learned of this engagement yesterday, and we are now expected to meet the man _______ is engaged to without screaming?"

"Why marry her to a man we don't know?" Andrew added.

"He is not a man," Mother said, sipping from her cup. "At least not yet."

"What does that mean?" Sophie asked. "Is he unintelligent?"

That brought a smile.

"No, he is seventeen."

"Seventeen.." I muttered. _Definitely not as bad as it could have been._

"Why is ______ the first one of us to be married?" Andrew asked. "Will and I are the eldest, so why are we the ones left unmarried at eighteen?"

"Your father and I had a discussion when Will and Andrew were born," Mother replied, setting down the utensils once more and sipping from her cup. "We had agreed to give them free will over who they would come to marry."

"Then why is _this_ happening!?" Will exclaimed.

"I do not know."

"You are his wife!"

"He never discussed this with me."

"That's right." A low voice came from the hallway.

I looked up.

" _Good morning, father._ " I said, bitter.

"So?" Will walked over to him, his hands firmly on his hips. "Any explanation for this?"

"None that you would understand, William."

"Be that way, then." Will said, walking past him. "I am going to get dressed."

"You are not coming." Father said.

"I will if it concerns ______!" He shouted from the hallway. Paul followed hastily.

"I am joining as well." Andrew said. He took Alan's arm and dragged him out of the room.

"Well then," Sophie got up. "I have no reason to stay if everyone is leaving."

~

It was barely an hour before we boarded our carriages, ready for our departure.

~

The horses slowed to a stop in front of a grand white villa, quite a ways bigger than ours.

I craned my neck to see Mother exiting the carriage in front of us, Father following. I turned to look at the doors, and my oh my.

They were _huge_.

"Hey, ______," Sophie tapped me on the shoulder. "Let's go?"

I nodded and exited the carriage.

The doors were much bigger than I anticipated.

I tilted my head up and up until I could see the top of the door, about four or five metres tall.

Mother and Father were stood in front of me, and my siblings at my sides.

The doors swung inwards to reveal a grand dining hall and a boy fiddling with something, not facing us.

"Oh, hello!" He said as he noticed us. "Come in!" He smiled, making a sweeping gesture.

Our parents went first, then Andrew. I lagged behind a little to take a look at the boy.

Blonde hair, fair skin, red lips. Just like Alice's.

 _Now wouldn't that be funny._ I thought. _What was her surname again?_

Will and Sophie pulled me inside as the boy closed the doors.

"Stephen." I heard from behind me. I turned.

The blonde boy was talking to a brown-haired servant. The servant bowed, rising with a smirk. 

I raised an eyebrow at them. The boy caught my gaze and turned a furious red. He rushed towards me and grabbed my arm.

"Y-you didn't see anything!" He said, face turning even more red.

I raised my hands up in defense. "Nothing at all."

"______!" Father called, already seated at the dining table. 

"Yes, Father?"

"Come here." He beckoned to the row of seats across from him.

I nodded and pulled away from the boys' arm.

"You too, Anthony." The lady whom I assumed to be Countess Susan, called in my direction.

"Wait-" I realized.

"WAIT-" The blonde boy did, too.

"IT'S YOU!?" We yelled at the same time.

~

Anthony, or the "young Earl", was seated beside me. I was in between him and an empty seat. Chatter surrounded us as we sat down for a light meal.

"Can't believe you're the one I'm being married off to." He muttered, directed at me.

"Can't believe the one I'm being married off to is in lo-" Anthony clasped a hand over my mouth.

"Shush, now." He reprimanded in a low whisper.

I rolled my eyes. "It's not like there's anything wrong with that!" I said as quietly as I could.

"It isn't wrong if I were in love with a woman!" He replied, taking his hand away.

"What's the difference!?"

Stunned silence.

The blonde stood up. "Where is she?" He asked his parents.

His mother sighed. "She's likely in her room. You and the Viscountess can go get her, dear."

The Earl nodded and took me by the wrist.

"Her who?" I asked, almost tripping on a table.

"My sister." He replied, taking a left.

"You have a sister?" I dodged a potted plant.

"Yes." We went up the stairs.

"Does she look like you?"

He stopped moving, turned to me, and pressed his lips together. 

"Obviously?"

I slapped my forehead. "Obviously."

Footsteps came from up ahead. 

"Anthony? Is that you?" A voice called.

_No._

The owner of the sweet voice appeared.

"Countess!" 

"Viscountess!" 

It was Countess Hill! Alice!

I ripped myself away from the Earls' grip to hug her.

Like last time, her hug was soft and her arms wrapped around me nicely. Her hair bounced a little, and she smelled of rose perfume.

I pulled away to get a good look at her face.

"I knew it!" I shouted.

She gave me a questioning look.

"When I saw him," I pointed at the Earl behind us, "I thought he looked familiar! And Hill! How did I miss that?"

The Countess laughed and locked our arms together. "Is everyone there now?" She asked.

"Well, my family is here, so how about I introduce them to you?"

The Countess smiled. "Of course!"

"Countess, the Earl is calling for you!" A servant called from the bottom of the stairway.

"I am coming, Stephen!" She called back. 

My eyes flew over to the Earl, whose eyes were firmly planted on the unseen serving boy.

"Stephen." I put my hand on my chin. "Is that the one, Earl?"

"W-what?" His eyes were suddenly on me.

" _Is that the one?_ " I asked him again.

The Countess laughed. "So you know too, Viscountess?"

I nodded. "It wasn't particularly hard to see." The Earl scratched the back of his head and looked at his shoes. "And please, call me ______."

"Of course!" She led me down the stairs, passing by her brother with a wink. "Only if you do the same, _______."

"Absolutely!" I looked back to see the Earl chatting with Stephen. He caught my gaze and I offered him a thumbs-up.

He smiled in return.

I faced Alice again. "If I may ask,"

"Go ahead."

"Why do you smell of roses?" I asked. "It's a strange question, but I would like to ask, since the last time we met, you did not have any perfume on."

Alice stopped in her tracks. "Well," She fiddled with her thumbs. "You and I are in a similar position."

"Oh dear," I said, placing a hand on her back. "Arranged marriage?"

The blonde nodded.

"And he is in love?"

"I believe so."

"Do you know who it is?"

"..Yes." She said, almost whispering.

"Who-"

"Ah, Alice!" The Earl called from the dining table. "How nice of you to finally join us!"

"I will get to you later!" She separated from me and rushed over to her father.

I stood there scratching the top of my head.

~

I was now sat in between Alice and Anthony. It was quite awkward on the right side, since I caught Anthony making eyes at the serving boy multiple times. 

I leaned in to whisper in his ear. "You're too obvious." 

His head whipped around. "Really!?"

"Yes." I patted him on the shoulder. "You'll attract more attention. Now stop making eyes."

I heard a disappointed whimper.

The seat next to Alice had been empty for some time now. I started wondering when her fiancé would arrive. We started making small talk across the table, and both of the Hill siblings were getting along nicely with my siblings.

"Now, Anthony." Will said, pointing a fork at him,

"Yes?" Anthony straightened his back.

"Men or women?"

"What kind of question is that?" Anthony seemed like he was about to start sweating.]

"What comes to your mind when I ask that?"

"Both," The blond said, taking a sip from his cup. "But men are easier to _befriend._ "

I spotted Andrew passing a coin to Will from underneath the table.

 _You did not._ I mouthed at them. 

_It was obvious!_ Will mouthed back.

 _I thought it was just men._ Andrew added.

"Finish your food!" Sophie said.

The front door swung open.

"Hello!" An old voice said. "We aren't too late, are we?"

"No, not at all, Sir Tewksbury!" The Earl said.

Silence came from my side of the family.

I felt their eyes on me.

"Oh dear." I said.

I looked to the entryway, where I could see only Sir Tewksbury and the Marchioness.

The Marchioness noticed this and called for her son.

"I am coming, mother!" Was the distant reply.

" _Oh dear._ " I said again, looking down and fiddling with the food on my plate.

I heard stifled chuckles one moment then the silence of realization the next. 

Sir Tewksbury and Lady Tewksbury took their seats at the table, which was beside the Earl and the Countess. 

The Viscount arrived a little later, giving apologies and walking towards the empty seat beside Alice.

"Oh dear, oh dear." I whispered, unaware of what to do.

"Well, if it isn't Andrew Morgan!" He greeted. 

Andrew smiled and gave the Viscount a firm handshake. "You seem a little taller than when I last saw you, Tewksbury. Are you wearing heeled shoes?"

The Viscount sat across from him and scoffed. "I am, but I may only seem taller now because of my presence."

"You're tall enough as is, Viscount." I said, leaning forward to look at him. "Have some respect for those of us who must wear those all day, every day."

A smirk came upon his face. "Well, of course you are Viscount Andrew's sister." He raised an eyebrow. "You two look very much alike."

I saw the opportunity and took it. "You're wrong there, Tewksbury."

"How so?" He looked to Andrew, then to me.

"Andrew isn't attractive in the slightest." 

Will almost spit out his water. Sophie forgot her manners and let out a hearty laugh. I looked at Andrew, who was making a scrunched up face. Alice and Anthony were chuckling.

"Hey!" Andrew called. "Will has my face, how is he any different?"

"He has a sense of humour, Andrew." Mother added.

I burst.

All of a sudden, everything was more colorful, and the room more full of life.

_This better not be your doing, Tewksbury._

He smiled quite often, as well. 

I hate to admit it, but it was quite attractive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’ll try to update daily!  
> -  
> stephen/anthony ship names?


	5. four: moonlight

The conversations around the table multiplied and smiles were thrown around more often once the Tewksburys arrived.

It was lively, and I have to admit, I enjoyed myself.

I did not enjoy the context of this particular situation, but I enjoyed what it has led to.

The Viscount insisted we call him Tewksbury, and my siblings had been trying to give him nicknames.

“Tewkey!” Sophie said, a finger in the air.

Tewksbury gave her a small smile. “Anything.”

“Bury boy!” Will exclaimed.

“No!” Andrew laughed.

“Berry!” Anthony tried.

“That’s adorable,” I said, patting his back.

“You try, ______,” He replied. “It isn’t that easy.”

I tapped my chin. “Tewkey, Berry, Tewks, Berry, Tewksbury, hm.”

“It is easier said than done,” Andrew said.

I nodded. “Tewkey, Tewks, and Berry are the only nicknames I can think of.”

“Any of those three are fine by me,” Tewksbury said.

“That’s up to you, berry boy,” I replied with a smile.

He rolled his eyes.

~

The adults told us to move to a different room while they discussed ‘business’.

Alice led us to the hallway near the staircase.

“I bet they’re discussing some sort of dowry.” I rolled my eyes.

“Do people still do that?” Sophie asked.

Andrew patted her head. “Regrettably.”

Sophie scrunched up her face.

Will let out a small chuckle. “Don’t worry, Sophie. Andrew _will_ dismantle this misogyny.”

“I do hope so,” I said.

Alice opened the door to a room on our left.

“The idea of women being lesser is idiotic,” Tewksbury said, stepping into the room. “Whichever man came up with that must have one braincell.”

“It is like the different versions of the Bible,” Anthony added.

I nodded and took a seat near the window. The sun had just started to set. It had been almost half a day that we had been in the Hills' home. The sun was a few centimetres away from the horizon, and it was painting the sky a beautiful purple and orange.

The clouds were drifting peacefully over the buildings of London, and I couldn’t help but imagine of what the common citizen was doing.

I wonder what happened to the two boys who jumped off that train.

“What was that, ______?” Tewksbury asked from the table in the middle of the room.

“Oh, did I say that out loud?”

He nodded.

“There was this article in the newspaper a few weeks back,” I started, turning to face him.

He seemed to be the only one listening, as the others were reading books and having a lively chat over the different editions and mistranslations of the Bible.

“It was about these two boys jumping off a train bound towards London.”

The Viscount had an amused smile on his face.

“What?” I asked. “Did I say something funny?”

He got up and occupied the chair across from me.

“A little, yes,”

“I was asking about two boys who _jumped off a train._ ”

He chuckled. “I know. I just wasn’t aware that it made its way to the news,”

“Oh?” I raised an eyebrow. “Do you know something about it? Were you on that train?”

“I guess you could say that.”

“What does that even mean? It is a yes or no question, berry boy.”

“It’s just–” he ran a hand through his hair– “It’s funny, I never thought jumping off a train would be the thing that would save my life.”

My mouth made an ‘o’ shape. “So you were one of those boys, then?”

He nodded.

“Who was the other one?”

“Well, _she_ wasn’t exactly a boy,”

“Oh?”

A smile formed on his face. “Do you know of Enola Holmes?”

~

The moon had been in the sky for about half an hour now, and the Viscount had just finished his tale. Everyone else had listened, too. It wasn’t too long before we attracted the attention of some of the servants outside.

“Wow.” I said.

“Wow, indeed,” Tewksbury said, stretching. “She was amazing.”

“It seems so,” Will smiled. “Were you in love with her?”

“Do you _really_ have to ask that?” I smirked. “You are too obvious, Tewksbury.”

“Am I?” He muttered under his breath.

“Yes!” Everyone else replied.

“Enola seems like a delight to be around,” Sophie mused.

“She is.” Tewksbury stood to pour himself a cup of tea.

“I didn’t think you were the type to be fascinated about flowers, berry.” Anthony opened his book.

“How could I not? Flowers are beautiful, and messages can always be sent through them,” Tewksbury sipped from the small cup, laning against the table.

“Like what?” I asked.

His eyes lit up. “Well, it depends– and I could go on for days about this– on the message you’d like to send,”

“What if I wanted to say thank you?” Andrew asked.

“Pink roses are perfect for gratitude.”

“What about if I wanted to say sorry?” Alice asked.

“White tulips,”

“Condolences?” Will asked.

“Poppies or Statice,”

“If I wanted to tell someone of their beauty?” Anthony asked.

Tewksbury smiled. “For you, Sweet Williams, Lavender Roses, and Amaryllis.”

“What do you mean, for you?”

Tewksbury patted him on the back.

“Love?” I asked.

“There are many, ______, what kind of love?”

“In admiration and something else,”

Tewksbury cocked an eyebrow. “Something else?”

“Something along the lines of ‘I love and admire you’,”

“Perhaps a bouquet of Red Tulips, Light Red Carnations, Red Camellias, White Cammelias, and more Lavender Roses,” He said, listing them off on his fingers.

“Noted.” I smiled and looked out the window.

~

The Viscount had asked to be excused some time after that. I had wondered where he had went, but it seems he had wanted to sit on the edge of the fountain. I could see him from my chair, just outside the window.

I turned to Alice. “Can I borrow a blank paper and pen?”

“Of course.” She stepped to a desk with a stack of papers on top.

It didn’t take me long to start sketching.

It was oddly poetic, the Viscount sitting on the edge of the running fountain, looking up at the sky, the moonlight hitting his face. His reflection was moving in the water behind him. His mouth was moving.

“Is he talking to himself?” I muttered.

The scene was perfect. His posture was not exactly something to be proud of, but it was beautiful on paper. One of his legs were sticking out, his back was at quite an angle, and he was resting on his right arm, which was straightened out on his side. I enjoyed sketching the way his hair swayed with the wind, almost indistinct from the color of his coat.

I finished the drawing.

After some inspection, I decided to go join him.

“I’ll be back,” I told the others.

I walked to the desk and took a few more sheets of paper before heading outside.

~

I found the Viscount, still in the position I found him in, reciting a verse.

“..With Cupid’s arrow; she hath Dian’s wit; And, in strong proof of chastity well armed, From love’s weak childish bow she lives unharmed. She will not stay the siege of loving terms, Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes–”

“Is that Shakespeare?” I interrupted.

Tewkesbury jumped. “O-oh! I didn’t see you there, ______,”

I laughed and sat down beside him.

“What’s that?” He pointed to the sketch I did of him, which was flipped over.

“Oh, this?” I flipped over the paper and offered it to him. “This is you.”

I could swear he flushed.

“This is me?” A smile.

“Yes,” My eyes ran over the sketch again. “Do you not like it?”

“N-no, it’s not that,” He shook his head. “I just don’t think anyone has drawn me before.”

“Well, you better get used to it,” I said, reaching for the paper.

Tewksbury snatched it away. “This is mine now,” He smiled, the paper behind his back.

“Hey!”

“You’ll have to take it if you want it back!” He laughed, walking around the fountain.

“Fine! Take it!” My posture sank.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him smiling at the sketch and folding it up.

“That’s going to stay in my pocket wherever I go,” He smiled and sat down.

“Really?” I turned my head. “You look like the type of person to say that then lose it after two days.”

Tewksbury pouted. “I’m going to keep it safe, I swear!”

I rolled my eyes. “Okay, flower boy.”

“Flower boy?”

“Flower boy.” I looked down to the pen and paper on my lap.

“Flower boy, huh?”

I turned my head to see him facing the sky again, the moonlight hitting his face at a perfect angle–

“Don’t move.” I commanded, putting my pen to paper.

“Huh? Why?” He asked, facing me

“Stop!” I tilted his head back.

“Are you drawing me?”

“Yes, now stop moving!”

~

“So,” The Viscount said, not daring to move. “Do you dance?”

“Dance?”

“Yes, dance, like in a ballroom?”

“Oh god, you would _not_ like to see me dance.”

“I think I would,” He smiled.

I tried to hold back a smile. “I am a disaster in the ballroom, flower boy.”

“How so?”

“The amount of dancing teachers whose foot I’ve stepped on is _endless._ ”

He laughed. “I’d like to test your dancing.”

I put down my pen. “What, now?”

“Actually, yes,” He stood and held out a hand. “May I have this dance, Viscountess ______ Morgan?”

I pressed my lips together and sighed. “Sure thing, Viscount Tewksbury, Marquess of Basilwether.”

I took his hand.

He dragged me a few feet away from the fountain.

“Do you know where to put your hands, at least?”

“The only thing I know, Tewksbury,”

“Now that’s just sad,” He said, placing his hand on my waist.

“Oh, boohoo,” I squeezed his shoulder.

“Now, take two steps backwards,” He instructed. “On my count.”

I bit my lip.

“One,” _Right foot._ “Two.” _Left._

I looked up at him. “Good?”

“Good.” He said softly. “Now two steps forward.”

“One,” _Left,_ “Two.” _Right-_

“Ow.”

“Sorry,” I muttered.

“That was the fourth step,” He said. “Is that a record?”

“N-no.”

“No?” He chuckled. “What is?”

“The second,”

“Oh dear, ______. It seems I’ve some work to do.”

“What, you’ll be my dance instructor?” I smirked.

“That doesn’t seem like a bad idea, now two steps to the left,” He instructed. “Besides, I’ve made it this far without giving up, right?”

I let out a small laugh. “To be fair, some have quit after the first two steps.”

“Four to the right,” Tewksbury said between chuckles.

~

We almost collapsed.

Twice.

“Why did you even try?” I asked, splashing my face with water.

“It seemed fun!” He replied, panting.

“And now?”

“Not fun, no.”

I laughed and almost fell into the fountain.

“Wh- how are you so bad at this?”

“I don’t know!”

“You’re going to have to do this if you’re to be married to Anthony, you know.” He chuckled.

“Oh dear. Does Anthony dance?”

“Yes,” Tewksbury said, stretching his arms. “And he does it well.”

“Oh no.” I placed my head in my hands. “Being engaged to him is bad enough, and now I have to dance!?”

He laughed. “He’s not that great of a teacher, either,”

“Nooo!” I took in a breath and let it out slowly. “I’d rather run away,”

“Easier said than done,” Tewksbury informed.

“Right.” I looked at him. “You did find that job at the flower shop, right?”

“Yes,”

“Was it enjoyable?”

“Absolutely,”

“I’d love to live like that,” I said, leaning back. “Find a job, find a house, work, eat, read books, sleep, repeat.”

“I do miss that,” Tewksbury replied. “Such a simple way of living.”

“No arranged marriages,”

“No fancy parties,”

“No _ballroom dances,_ ”

“Are you still hung up about that?” He asked.

“Yes!” I whipped my head to face him. “All my years of living and I cannot perform _one_ dance!”

Laughter.

I enjoy this. _Just me and a friend, being happy._

“I’d run away for someone I loved, if they asked.” Tewksbury said, looking up.

 _They’d be lucky._ “Like Enola?” I asked, watching his hair sway in the faint wind.

“She would never ask,”

“Never?”

“No,”

“If I asked?”

He turned to look at me. “Honestly, yes.”

“Then don’t be surprised if I do ask,” I said, looking into his eyes. A chocolate shade, illuminated.

“Your eyes are brown,” I told him.

“Yes, they are.” He said, a faint tinge of _something_ in his cheeks.

“How did I never notice?” I leaned in to get a better look.

“What do you mean?”

“They’re so brown, just like tea.” I pointed out.

“Thank you?”

“You’re welcome,” I said.

“Um, ______?”

It was then that I realized how much I _was_ leaning in. “O-oh, sorry,”

“Hey, you two!” Andrew called from the door. “Everyone’s calling for you, come inside!”

I moved away and picked up the papers and pen I arrived with. “How long has it been?”

“About an hour?”

“Huh.” I turned away. “I could spend an entire day with you, as insufferable as you are.”

“Aw, thank you,”

I entered the villa.

~

“Ah, there you are, ______,” Mother called from the dining table. “How are you?”

I looked at Father. “As well as I can be.”

“Good,” Mother smiled. “We are leaving soon, can you ask one of your brothers call for the carriages?”

I nodded and walked over to Will and Andrew. “Mother’s asking for the carriages,”

“I’ll get it,” Andrew said. “Being in this room with these adults makes me faint.”

Will and I shared a laugh as he left.

“Go to Anthony,” Will said.

“Why?”

“You two need to make a show of you leaving,”

I scoffed. “I hate that you’re right.”

I searched the room for the blond boy.

And where else would I find him but with Stephen?

“Anthony,” I said as I approached the two. “Stephen,” I nodded to the serving boy. “May I borrow him?”

“Go ahead,” He replied.

“What is it?” Anthony asked.

I led him towards Will. “We need to make a show of me leaving.”

“Right.” He replied, offering his arm.

I took his arm. “You need to kiss my hand once we start boarding the carriages.”

He sighed.

I smacked him with the stack of papers in my hand. “It’s just the hand, you lovesick fool!”

“Lower your voice!” He whispered.

I rolled my eyes as we approached Will. “It’s obvious as it is, Anthony.”

Anthony looked at the floor, a red spreading over his cheeks.

“What’s this about?” Will asked.

“You know who this is about,” I smirked.

“Oh, right,” Wills' smile grew. “What’s his name?”

“H-his name is Stephen,” Anthony muttered.

“If you don’t do anything, I might be the one to do it,” Will chuckled.

“Don’t you dare!” I laughed.

The clopping of horseshoes echoed from outside the door.

“Is that yours or Berry’s?” Anthony asked, eager for a change in topic.

“I’m not sure,” I looked to the dining table, where all the adults rose from their seats almost siimultaneously.

Sir Tewksbury and the Marchioness approached the now-open door.

“'Suppose it’s theirs, then?” Will asked.

I nodded.

The Viscount followed from behind them, holding a folded up piece of paper.

“Don’t lose that, now, flower boy!” I called as they walked out into the night.

“I wouldn’t dare,” He winked.

I rolled my eyes and watched them enter their carriage. The horses were reared up and I could see the Viscount waving from his window.

I waved back. Our brown mares were soon approaching the entrance. I searched the room for Sophie and Andrew.

Sophie was with Mother and Father, chatting.

No Andrew.

“Is he in the carriage?” I asked Will.

Will squinted his eyes. “No, he’s driving.”

“He’s–” I followed his line of sight.

Andrew was, indeed, driving the horses.

“So he is,”

Andrew almost ran the horses into the fountain.

“And not very well,” I pointed out.

“How much d’you bet he’ll run into the door?” Will asked.

“I’d say about fifty pence,” I said.

“Twenty-five,” Anthony offered.

Will clicked his tongue. “Well now it won’t since we’re all betting against him,”

A small crash.

“Did you just run into the door?” I shouted.

“Yes!” Andrew replied.

A hearty laugh came from all directions.

“I’m _begging_ you, Andrew,” Mother called. “ _Please_ let the driver handle this!”

“Gladly!”

~

“You are a disaster, Andrew,” Will chuckled as Andrew climbed down from the front of the carriage.

“I know, Will,” Andrew hung his head. “I know,”

Mother and Father entered the carriage he was driving not so long ago.

“Please never drive a carriage again,” Mother said as they left.

Will, Anthony, and I laughed. Sophie approached us, looking amused.

“I promise!” Andrew chuckled.

“Take her advice, will you?” Sophie said, grabbing onto his arm.

Andrew sighed. “That seems to be my only option,”

Our carriage stopped in front of us.

“Do it now,” I said to Anthony.

He nodded and kissed my hand.

“Goodbye, ______,”

“Goodbye, Anthony,” I said. “Now run to Stephen,” I whispered.

Anthony flushed and left.

I chuckled and entered the carriage.

~

“My god, that was tiring!” I exclaimed. We were about halfway towards home now.

“At least you were with Tewkey for an hour,” Sophie complained. “Mother called us a few minutes after you left,”

“Ouch,” I replied. Just the idea of being in the same room with the collection of people in the dining room made me shudder. Sure, w had done it, but that was with Tewksburys' compa-

“Anyway,” I muttered under my breath.

_You have bigger things to think about than Tewksbury._

~

We were home before I could realize it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if i don’t update daily, expect bi-daily updates!


	6. five: time spent thinking of you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which you try to find te first time you realized.

Flower Boy Ch 5

_The Viscount has been on my mind recently._ I smile as I pick out a gardenia.

_Ever since.._

_Since.._

_Ever since.._

_Ever since when?_

~

_Maybe then.._

“The Viscount has been on my mind recently.” I mused to Sophie.

“Of course he has,” She deadpanned.

“Wait, what is that supposed to mean?” I threw a pillow her way.

She caught it, dropping her book in the process.

“Do I really have to be the one to tell you!?” She threw it back, smacking me on the head.

“Ow.”

She stuck her tongue out at me. “You’re an idiot, _____,”

“I try my best.” I sighed, falling back on the bed, holding the pillow to my chest.

“A good scream into the pillow works wonders,” Sophie picked her book up.

“Hm,” I covered my face with the pillow and let out a hearty scream.

I heard Sophie chuckling.

I removed the pillow. “–Is something funny?”

“No, not really,” She replied, sitting down at the edge of my bed. “I just didn’t think you of all people would take that advice.”

I sat up. “What? This coming from the girl who chops firewood whenever she’s angry?” I squeezed her arms.

She laughed.

_Knock knock._

“Who is it?” I called.

“Emilia,”

“Come in,”

Emilia was holding a folded piece of paper.

“From the Hills,” She said, handing the note to me.

The seal was nothing that special, just an H with a few embellishments.

I removed the wax.

_“‘To ______ _and her siblings, a short message._ _We’ll be arriving at your home soon, Anthony, Tewksbury, and I._ _Be ready!’”_

“Why?” Sophie asked.

I was already rummaging through my clothes with Emilia by then.

“Likely some marriage thing,” I said, ruffling through different colored dresses.

I heard Sophie sigh and trudge out of her room, calling for Lydia.

~

Father had gone out for the day, and Mother decided to spend the day studying in the library. Will, Andrew, Sophie, and I were the ones who had to arrange everything.

Well, it was more of Andrew and Sophie.

Will and I were outside, climbing trees.

“Agh! I almost ripped my skirt!” I said, a few feet away from the ground.

Will laughed. He was near the tops of the tree, his legs dangling from the branch. “That’s what you get for racing me in a dress!”

I gave up on climbing and leaned on the trunk. I could always go higher than two feet off the ground, at least when I wasn’t wearing a dress.

“I wonder what time they’re coming,” Will mused, looking to the horizon.

“Hopefully before Andrew and Sophie prepare a full-fledged feast.” I said, removing my shoes.

Something small fell on my head.

I looked up. “Did you just–”

“–Yes.”

I frowned and sat on the grass.

~

I soon left Will and started walking around the garden, greeting the workers as I passed by.

I saw some red tulips and roses.

“Red tulips, light red carnations, red camellias, white camellias, and more lavender roses,” I muttered, picking a few. “I’ll have to read a book on floriography soon.”

“I can lend you some of mine,”

I jumped.

_Who else would it have been?_

Head of brown hair, about six feet, tea colored eyes.

“I didn’t notice you coming, Tewksbury,” I said.

“I can see them, you know,” He pointed to the flowers I was trying so desperately to hide behind my back.

I sighed and revealed them.

He smiled. “Red tulips and roses, hm?”

I rolled my eyes.

He took a red tulip and stuck it behind his ear. “How’s it look?”

It was leaning too much to the air beside his ear. “It looks like it is going to fall off,”

A cheeky smirk appeared on his face. “Mind if you fix it for me?”

I scoffed.

But yes, I fixed it for him.

With a barely concealed red face.

We spent the rest of the day walking to, through, and from the gardens and the woods.

_But it was not then._

That was not the first time I had realized it.

~

_Was it then?_

The Hills had stuffed me into a carriage, not telling me where it was bound.

“For the hundredth time today, you two,” I sat down, resting my head on my hand. “ _Where_ are we bound?”

No answer this time. _Yet again._

“You’ll love it, promise.” Alice squeezed my free hand.

“The first time you speak in two hours, and it isn’t our destination?” I whined.

“It is nothing big, ______,” Anthony assured.

I sighed, impatient. “I do hope it isn’t,”

The carriage took a right and our scenery changed from the drab gray of London to a colorful field filled with trees and man made mazes.

We kept moving forward 'til a large villa entered our view.

It was semi-obscured with an abstract fountain and hedges, but it was definitely made of bricks.

There was a clock at the top of the front doors and small spires that jutted out to the sky on its sides.

The horses slowed to a stop in front of the steps, which were topped with a checkerboard pattern.

I had no time to properly inspect the front door, as I could hear footsteps running towards us.

The carriage door swung open. Anthony and Alice exited first, and I could hear light snickers coming from their figures.

“What’s so funny?” This was too frustrating. _All this way, not a word, and when we arrive, nothing but laughs! The audacity!_

“Don’t worry, she’s in the carriage,” I heard Anthony speak.

“I won’t be for much longer,” I said, taking the drivers' hand.

Was it the drivers' hand?

He was not wearing gloves.

I turned to see–

“–Hello!” Tewksbury greeted.

I nearly jumped, _again_.

He was standing where the driver was supposed to be, brown hair, charming eyes, and all.

“Tewksbury! Wh–” I looked him up and down. “What are you doing here?”

It was his turn to be confused. His face scrunched up and one of his eyebrows rose.

“I,” He tilted his head. “I live here..?”

“You,” I blinked at him. “You? Live? Here?”

He nodded.

I looked to Anthony and Alice, who seemed to be barely holding it together.

“Sorry–!” They said, through small yet uncontrollable laughs.

The Viscount was soon standing by my side, smiling at the two.

I felt my hand being squeezed.

I looked down.

_He is holding your hand._

My eyes widened.

_He is holding my hand!_

Rather than do anything about it, I squeezed back.

He flushed and led us into his home.

~

Anthony and Alice had abandoned us a little while ago, and I thought that perhaps they had already known their way around.

I was left with Tewksbury, still holding his hand, as he walked me through a few halls and under a few staircases to reach a library.

Walls covered in books, tables and chairs scattered around, with plates of food and pitchers of drinks on them.

He led me to the middle of the room and let go of my hand.

I almost didn’t notice, my eyes focused on the books that were on the walls.

_Almost._

My hand lingered in the air for a few seconds.

I looked back, pointing to the bookshelves. “May I?”

“Of course,” Tewksbury bowed.

I explored the rows upon rows of books, running my hand on the spines until one would stand out to me.

A book on floriography and _Romeo and Juliet_ were the ones I sat down with.

“That one?” The Viscount pointed to the floriography book. “Are you sure?”

I scoffed, observing his pile of books. “At least it isn’t ten books on politics,” I replied.

“If I wasn’t a Lord, then I would be happy to burn them,” He said, taking a bite out of a cake.

I picked up the aptly titled “Floriography Dictionary” and opened its cover.

The well worn pages smelled of flowers, of course. The scent mixed well with the cakes and tea.

And so we sat next to each other, reading the day away.

It was a comfortable silence, often interrupted with the “excuse me?” from Tewksbury or the “oh, that makes sense,” from me.

~

“A red Gardenia symbolizes secret love between two individuals,” I read.

Tewksbury seemed intrigued.

“Like red roses, red gardenias are also a symbol of passion and love, but the fact that separates the two is that red gardenias are associated with secrecy,” I continued, running my finger on the text.

“Usually, gifting a red gardenia is a silent way of saying ‘I love you,’” Tewksbury said, not looking up from his book.

I smirked and sipped my tea.

~

_It may have been then, but it wasn’t. It was even longer ago._

Oh! I see!

There was the day a gardenia appeared in my room, on my nightstand.

I remember it clearly.

~

My eyes opened to greet the sun outside my window. It was another gray London day, only highlighted by the rising sun and his helpers, the lamps.

I sat up, stretched my arms, and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes.

My mouth was dry.

I turned to get a drink of water from the pitcher and cup on my nightstand.

That’s when I noticed it.

A flower.

I took a sip of water and leaned over to pick it up.

It was a big, red bloom. Its petals folded over one another not unlike roses, but wider and more spaced out than them.

It had many leaves sprouting from the stem, which was what confirmed my suspicion of the flower not being a rose. It had no thorns. It was lovely to hold and even better to look at.

I decided to sketch it.

I rose from the bed, stretching my legs, and scampered about the room to find a sketchbook and pencil.

There was a sketchbook in the top drawer of my nightstand and a pencil on the floor.

I placed the flower in the remains of water in the pitcher and worked.

From stem to bloom to leaves, I worked on that sketch until my wrist ached.

~

The pencil was almost a nub by then.

Altough, it definitely wasn’t that long at the beginning of the day.

I was searching for paints when I found the note.

It was right under where the flower had been that morning.

Folded, with a small heart on it.

“How did I miss this earlier?” I muttered.

_‘A red Gardenia.’_

“That solves that mystery, then,” I turned it over.

_‘– flower boy.’_

I smiled.

~

Oh, it was most definitely then.

That is when I realized that I was in love.

With my soon-to-be stepsisters' engaged.

_Oh dear me._

~

It did not help that I send another red gardenia his way, no note or name attached.

After that, red roses. Two.

After that, a small bouquet.

And now I am here.

In a flower stall in London, looking at the colorful assortment displayed in front of me.

I pored over roses, camellias, carnations, tulips.

Before I could take a good look at the lavenders, I found myself face to face with a brown coat.

“Excuse me,” The owner of the coat was speaking to me.

“Yes?” I stared at his shoes.

“Do you know where I can find red gardenias?”

I looked up.

And a small smile found its way to my face. “Hello, flower boy.”

Tewksbury smiled back, brushing his knuckles on my hand. “Hello, Viscountess,”

~


	7. six: books and red tulips

_How did I get here?_

I am tripping over myself, trying to climb a rope ladder.

Into a treehouse.

 _Tewksburys'_ treehouse.

Tewksbury, in question, was laughing at me from inside the treehouse.

“Wh– why do yo– your legs!” He said in between laughs.

“I am _trying my best,_ Tewksbury!” I panted.

“You– you’ve fallen at least fiv– five times!”

“I am _trying_!” I yelled, frustrated.

I climbed up the final few knots of the rope and collapsed on the wooden floor.

He was still laughing.

I turned to lie face-up on the floor, panting.

“Will you stop?” I said, in between breaths.

“N–” Tewksbury stopped to breathe. And continued laughing. “No!”

I rolled my eyes and sat up.

I took a good look around. There was a stack of books and paper, a laughing Viscount, (which was not that bad of a sight, either) and a chest. There were hanging plants and baskets and a hammock. Looking closer, the treehouse itself seemed to be made of stray wood and branches.

I looked back at Tewksbury.

“Are you finished?”

He exhaled. “I-” He stopped to stifle a laugh. “I believe so,”

I sighed and stood. Looking close at a small table, I spotted a blue book.

“ _London as it is Today_ ,” I read, picking it up.

Tewksbury turned, holding a blue flower.

I raised an eyebrow and flipped through the books' pages. Somewhere about halfway through, a flat blue flower fell out.

I bent over to pick it up, and on close inspection, it seemed to be a pressed flower.

“What flower is this?” I asked Tewksbury, holding up the flat flower.

He smiled and handed me the flower he was holding. “Cornflowers,”

I recalled a passage from the _Floriography Dictionary._

“Wealth, prosperity, fortune, and friendship?” I stared at the flowers in my hand.

“Here,” The Viscount took the book and flipped to a page. “Covent Garden Market,”

“Why is that important?” I asked, reading the first few words.

“That was where I worked when I was Thomas Brown,” He pointed at the small illustration on top of the chapter title.

“Pardon?” My face scrunched up. “Y– you named yourself Thomas Brown?”

“Well, excuse me,” He replied. “I think it was clever,”

I stared at him. “Th–” I had to let out a laugh, “The Viscoun– Viscount Thomas Brown, Marq– Marquess of Bas– Basilwether–”

“It wasn’t meant to be a nobles' name!” He interjected.

~

“I see you’ve recieved the flowers,” I said, spotting a small bouquet of red tulips in a hanging basket.

“Yes,” He walked over and took the bouquet. “I was about to press them, would you like to join me?”

I nodded and took the bouquet.

Tewksbury smiled and took a few books. “Could you get some sheets of paper?”

I turned and picked up about six.

“Pressing flowers is simple, really,” He pointed out. “Here,”

He placed a few flowers in between two sheets of paper– “Like so,” –and placed them in the middle of a book.

“See?”

I followed along.

I picked three blooms, placed them in between sheets of paper, and in a book. “Like this?”

He nodded, eyes lighting up. “Now let me take them,” He placed the books underneath more books.

I picked up the book about London and laid down on the hammock.

I would never admit it, but I was simply savoring Tewksburys' presence.

We were in the same vicinity, yes, but were doing completely different things.

He doodled flowers on paper, studied maps, watered his plants, and read books.

I was swaying on the hammock, reading and occasionally sketching.

Barely any words were exchanged between us two, but there were things that did not need to be said.

 _I enjoy your company,_ for one.

~

Before any of us could notice, the sun had started setting.

I checked my pocketwatch. _5:36._

“Do you have a lamp?” I asked.

Tewksbury nodded and took one from the chest, along with a pack of matches.

“Thank you,” I took the items, lit the lamp, and hung it from one of the stray but stable branches.

The warm flame illuminated not only the treehouse, but a small portion of the meadow around it.

I looked up at the sky and scenery. Pinks, oranges, blues, and purples lit the sky and tinted everything a soft, slightly pink. The lamps' yellow made a faint, flickering circle that enveloped the treehouse and the meadow beneath. There was a spot on the grass, both illuminated by the flame and under a clearing of branches.

“That would make a perfect stargazing spot, huh, ______?”

I smiled. “It’s not dark enough for stargazing, Tewksbury,”

“It will be soon,” He said, offering his hand.

“What are you going to do, help me down the rope?” I raised an eyebrow.

“No,” He said. “Just take it,”

I took his hand.

He pulled me close. “I will throw you on the grass.”

I let go and made my way down the rope. “No, thank you,”

He laughed and followed.

I landed on the grass with a huff.

~

Within minutes, we were laying on the grass, staring at the appearing stars.

“I don’t know any constellations,” Tewksbury admitted.

I pointed to three stars in a line. “Well, that’s Orions' Belt, which is connected to the Orion constellation,” I paused. “Which is the only constellation I know.”

“Well,” He turned to face me. “At least you know more than me,”

I put my hand down and faced him.

Once again, the moonlight favored his face, hitting it in all the correct places, making his eyes brighter than the stars. His arms were on his stomach, his fingers intertwined.

I smiled. “At least there’s that,”

He faced the stars again, but I couldn’t turn away.

I couldn’t help it.

I took his hand and placed it in mine.

He seemed startled by this and flushed.

He faced me, shocked.

I smiled and kissed his hand.

His face turned even more red.

“You are special to me, flower boy,”

He smiled and turned away.

“The sentiment is returned,” He muttered.

~

“Stay here,” He said, standing and climbing up the treehouse.

I looked up, reveling in the sky, the moon, and the stars.

He had returned with the books we had used to press our flowers.

“Which one was yours?” He asked.

There was a red book and a brown book.

“I’ll say the brown one,” I said, taking the thick book.

Tewksbury sat beside me with crossed legs.

I moved and placed my head on his lap.

Looking up now, I see the sky behind him.

_There’s no sight I’d rather see._

“Thank you for everything,” I said to him.

He looked at me with a confused look. “I’ve barely done anything,”

“You being here is already a lot,” I replied.

He smiled and moved some hair off of my face.

Silence.

He faced the stars.

_I’d love to remember this sight._

He spoke.

I wasn’t expecting it, but he said it.

“Let’s run away together.”


	8. seven: them or him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i haven’t proofread this much lmao send help

“W-what?” I was shocked.

Tewksbury looked at me again, fingers in my hair.

 _“Let’s run away together.”_ He repeated, softer this time.

I was definitely showing the shock.

_Should we?_

I sat up and faced him.

Moonlight bouncing off of his face and everything.

His eyes were kind, genuine.

I flushed. “I-it’s selfish,” My mind ran over to Will, Andrew, Sophie, Mother, Emilia. “I’d have to leave my family behind,”

He placed his hand on mine, not a word escaping his lips.

My eyes darted from side to side, actually considering the possibilities.

_No arranged marriage with Anthony, no arranged marriage with Alice, they’d both be happy._

_But Will, Andrew, Sophie, Mother, Emilia!_

_They’d be fine, but Father would likely send out a search party._

_Would they accept that decision?_

“I’d hope so,” Tewksbury said.

“Did I say that out loud again?”

He nodded. “I’m not sure that _my_ family would.” He sighed and looked up. “The only son, finally part of the House of Lords,”

“Then why would _you_ run away?” I asked. “That’s quite selfish,”

“I’d rather be selfish than unhappy.”

I went quiet.

“Good point.” I muttered.

_Honestly, I can’t decide._

“There are good and bad sides to it,” I said, playing with the grass. “And simply, I can’t decide between _my family_ or running away from them.”

“Running away from them _for you._ ” Tewksbury replied, moving ever so closely to me. “It’s for your happiness,”

“Yes, but that’s exactly my point,” I looked at him. “What will my family do? Surely they’d piece it together by then,”

He was almost laying down, resting on his elbow. He ran his fingers through his hair and bit his lower lip.

“I understand,” He turned to face me. “But your answer does not have to come now.” He lifted my chin. “Alright?” He asked softly.

I smiled. “Alright.”

Tewksbury patted the grass beside him. “Now come, lie down with me, let’s look at the stars for just a little longer.”

I did, and while pointing at the stars and passing clouds, I noticed his small looks.

Small smiles when I say that it looks like nothing in particular.

Chuckles when I point at a cloud and say that it looks fluffy.

Eyes when I say that I’d like to see the surface of the moon.

“What?” I asked, finally turning to return his gaze.

He moved closer, our shoulders touching now.

“What?” I tried again.

With a smile and no words, he pressed his lips to my forehead.

I flushed.

“Nothing,” He finally said.

Footsteps.

I got up and rushed to the base of the treehouse to pick up some of my things.

_What was that!?_

My face was hot.

_Oh dear oh dear oh dear._

“Viscountess Morgan? Viscount Tewksbury? They’re calling for you!” I heard in between breaths.

“Yes, Paul, we’re coming, thank you!” Came Tewksburys' reply.

I picked up a flower and the lamp and tried to steady myself.

“______?”

I turned. “Yes?” Tewksbury was holding a book, the one I had picked earlier, with the flower in the middle.

“Don’t forget this,”

“I would never,” _But I almost did._

I swapped the book in his hand for the lamp in mine.

“Lead the way, then, flower boy,”

“Gladly,”

~

“Oh, thank _god_ I’m the only one here,” I sighed, slumping down on the carriage seat.

I heard the driver click his tongue for the horses.

As soon as the entrance to the Tewksbury villa was out of sight, I laid down on the seats, savoring this almost lonely moment.

 **Why** _must you do this to me, flower boy!?_ I kicked the seats as lightly as I could.

His lips on my forehead. _Stop!_

I turned face down on the seats and buried my head in my arms.

“Why am I like this?” I said into the cloth.

~

I fell asleep in the carriage, thinking of him.

I awoke in my bed, pillow in front of my face.

Eyes open.

Thinking.

_If I am to be honest, getting lost with him sounds like a very attractive option, considering the position we’re both in._

I sat up.

_But Mother._

I took a sip of water.

_But Will._

I stood and walked to the heap of clothes on a chair.

_But Andrew._

I stared at the clothes, wondering.

_But Sophie._

“I don’t know!” I balled my fists. “This is so selfish of me!”

I started changing, yelling at myself for even _considering_ leaving.

“Don’t be stupid!” for example.

Or “You are a part of your family!”

Or “He’s just a boy!”

~

There was _definitely_ a part of me that wanted to leave.

It would be so irresponsible of me.

So selfish.

And yet,

as I sit here,

beside my father,

greeting the nobles, a smile plastered on my face for the past few hours,

I would love to.

~

It was evening now, I was sitting at the dining table amidst nobles.

This was too much.

I hated stifling my laugh.

My opinions.

My words.

It sickens me, watching these ladies be pretentious in front of men.

It relieves me, when we all get up and move to the lobby to be loud and rowdy.

No woman is truly polite.

I stare out the window, watching the gardeners finish watering the plants with lamps in their other hands.

_I want to live that life._

My eyes were wide now.

_Should I leave?_

~

That night, I lay in bed, thinking, again.

“If Anthony was my husband, would he let me talk to him in public as I do in private?”

I turned around to my side, arms wrapped around a pillow.

“He’d let me do whatever I want,” I scoffed. “He’ll probably elope with Stephen and run away anyway.”

I breathed into my pillow.

“I’d love to join them.”

I couldn’t help but be mad at my position.

“If this is all I have to do as a ‘lady’,” I sat up. “Then what’s the difference in leaving?”

~

But the worst part?

Choosing.

Between this and my family,

or him and my _own_ happiness.

_Should I run away, then?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it wasn’t a rhetorical question, y’all 👀
> 
> results:  
> \+ 100% running away


	9. eight: preparation and execution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its 5am right now help me

“So?”

Tewksbury had pulled me aside. We were in the Hill House, right under the stairs.

His hand was on my arm and his eyes were fixed on me.

_Time to make a decision._

“I’ll run away with you, flower boy.”

~

We had formed a plan.

On my next visit to Basilwether House, I would bring my packed things and place them in one of the hedges.

On the visit after that, we’d change clothes, leave them where we left our bags,

And run.

~

We arrived home, and I rushed to my room.

I laid down on my bed, waiting for the hour where everyone would fall asleep.

Which, knowing _my_ family, wouldn’t take long.

So, I started packing.

Opening my closet, I picked out many pairs of shirts and trousers, the essential undergarments, and the occasional casual dress.

I took out the large bag that I always had under my bed and placed everything in there as neatly as I could.

_Money._

_Right._

I took books off the shelves and flowers out of their pots.

_Good thing I always hid my pocket money._

It all amounted to about one hundred pounds.

“That’s quite a lot,” I muttered, trying my best to keep quiet.

“Basilwether House to London is about 20 miles, isn’t it?” I opened one of my books out to a map.

I ran my finger from where I approximated Basilwether House was to London.

“And train fare is about a penny a mile,” I looked for a train map.

I found one in one of my desk drawers. “Aha!” I almost yelled.

“Oops,”

I opened it up to look for trains that go from Basilwether to London.

“There,” I pointed.

A direct train from Basilwether to London.

“About half an hour, maybe more,” I placed the book back.

“I need to write this down,”

~

The next week, Alice had invited me and Tewksbury over to the Hill House.

I knew I’d see her after that, but that didn’t stop me from giving her a long, warm goodbye hug.

~

A few days after that, all four of us had met up at Basilwether House again.

I was sure to ask one of the drivers to bring my big bag with them.

After a few hours of eating, talking, and all that, I excused myself to go and hide the bag.

I left through the front door, where I encountered the driver.

He had pointed me in the direction of the carriage, where he said that the bag was under one of the seats.

I nodded and he left in the direction of the servants' dining hall.

_Thank god it isn’t locked._

I lifted the bag from under the seat and walked over to a large hedge.

“Acceptable.” I muttered as I moved the branches aside.

~

“You look tired,” Alice pointed out when I walked back in. “Are you alright?”

I smiled and tried to steel myself. “I may or may not have tripped on a few bushes,”

She giggled.

I spotted Tewksbury raising an eyebrow at me as he sipped from a cup.

~

About a week has passed since then.

I opened my eyes to look at the cloth above me, hoping that it was the last time.

Since my last visit to Basilwether House, my father had kept insisting that Anthony and I display more affection towards each other.

We tried our best to not look uncomfortable.

One day, I even spotted a small spot on his neck.

_“You better cover that up,” I told him._

_His eyes widened. “I-I didn’t notice that!”_

_I scratched the back of my neck. “You know I don’t believe that,”_

_His eyes traveled down to his shoes._

The only few people who noticed were also the ones who knew about Stephen, so no big misunderstandings happened, thank god.

I rolled over to my side and stared out the window.

It was right before sunrise.

I sat up.

“I need to say my goodbyes, just in case,”

I picked up a notebook from my nightstand and started writing.

One for Emilia.

_Sorry, my dear, but thank you for putting up with me._

One for Sophie.

_I hope you grow into a great woman._

One for Andrew.

_I know you’ll make me proud._

One for Will.

_You’ll soar in the world, by your own terms._

One for Mother.

_Don’t blame yourself for this._

One fo-

_Actually, no._

“He doesn’t deserve one.” I said.

One for Stephen.

_Good luck._

One for Anthony.

_You deserve a world where you get to love them openly._

One for Alice.

_I wish you all the best._

I ripped the pages out and folded them.

A name on one side.

I stood, holding the five goodbye notes.

“Now, where to hide them?”

_Emilia would definitely start looking around the bed, so I’ll put it under._

_Sophie would go towards the window, so I’ll place it under the flower vase._

_Andrew would look in the bookshelves, so I’ll put one in a fiction book._

_Will would definitely pick up and observe the things on my desk, so I’ll put it in the stack of notes by the ink pot._

_Mother would stand by the doorway, but she’d also probably look in the closet. I’ll put one in the folds of her favorite dress of mine._

_Anthonys‘, Alices’, and Stephens' can all go in the false bottom of the desk drawer. Everyone in the house knows it exists, anyway._

_They’ve made me who I am today. I’m so sorry for leaving them._

I shook my head.

_Save the crying for later, _____._

~

Emilia came into my room a few hours after that, telling me that we were to leave for Basilwether House soon.

I wasn’t facing her.

I couldn’t.

“Thank you, Emilia.”

“No worries, ______,” She said as she walked out of the room.

I stared straight ahead.

“Don’t cry.”

The tears were gathering in my eyes.

“Don’t cry.”

The thought of leaving them–

“Don’t.”

I breathed in and wiped my eyes.

~

I looked deep into Emilias' eyes when we left.

I gave her the biggest hug I ever had.

“Wish me luck,” I whispered.

“Good luck, dear,” She whispered back.

_I’m going to miss you._

I climbed into the carriage.

~

We arrived to smiling Hills and Tewksburys.

_He_ was smiling particularly wide.

I gave Alice a big hug upon entering.

“This is going to be _so_ tiring,” She whispered.

I scoffed. “I _know._ ”

_That’s my goal for today._ I thought. _One goodbye hug to everyone that deserves it._

So I executed it.

One for both Anthony and Stephen at lunch.

_“You two deserve the world.”_

One for Andrew when he almost knocked over a vase.

_“You’re an idiot.”_

One for Sophie in the library when she said that men needed their rights to be taken away.

_“At least someone sees sense.”_

One for Will when he stared out the window and to the woods.

_“You could always run away and live in the woods anyway,”_

One for Mother at dinner.

_“I can handle more than you think, mother.”_

I saw Tewksbury excusing himself after he finished his meal.

He gave his mother and his uncle both big hugs as well.

I breathed as deeply as I could.

He gave everyone else affectionate smiles and pats on the back.

_So this is your goodbye._

He exited through the front door.

I smiled and laughed with the rest of the table for about ten minutes.

“No, blueberries are better!” Will threw one at Anthony.

“He says, as he throws one at me,” Anthony took a bite of a strawberry.

“Raspberries,” Alice said.

“ _Raspberries,_ ” Andrews' face scrunched up.

_This is the last conversation I’ll get to hear._ I thought as I soaked in the memory of their voices.

_This is the last memory I get to keep._

_Honestly? I can live with that._

I finished my meal.

“Excuse me,” I smiled and left the table.

Stephen winked at me as I exited through the front door.

~

“Flower boy!” I hissed in the direction of the hedges.

I walked towards them and started removing my accessories.

No answer.

“Where are you!?” I tried again.

A bowler hat popped up from the hedges.

“Here!” He hissed back.

I stopped in my tracks.

“A _bowler hat?_ ”

“I tried!”

He popped up from behind the hedge, fully dressed in a worn-looking suit and shoes.

“Give me that,” I took the bowler hat.

“Wh- hey!”

“You look ridiculous in a bowler hat, flower boy.”

“What do you suggest, then?”

“Do you have a tweed golf cap?”

He looked through his bag. “Oh. Yes.”

“There you go, then.” I sighed. “Now move,” I pushed him out of the way.

He looked at me with a confused look.

“My turn, you idiot,”

His mouth formed an ‘O’ shape and he walked out towards the gate.

I changed as fast as I could, into a pair of trousers and a few shirts under a coat. I took a tweed golf cap and hid my hair in it.

I hid my now old clothes in the hedge, picked up the bag, and walked over to Tewksbury.

“How do I look?” I asked, giving him a small spin.

He smiled and looked me up and down. “You look like a boy,”

“Thank you,” I bowed. “Milord.”

He rolled his eyes. “Not for much longer.”

“Do you have a name?” I asked him.

“Yes,” He nodded, “Do you?”

I stroked my chin. “Yes, one as a boy and one as a girl, but not a last name.”

“Then take mine.” He smirked.

“Cheeky.” I rolled my eyes. “I’ll just go with Cook. What shall I call you, then?”

The smirk couldn’t be wiped off his face. “William Cooper,” He stretched out his hand.

“Emma Cook,” I shook it with a smile. “Or Luke, if the situation prefers.”

He didn’t let go of my hand.

That was perfectly fine with me.

“Goodbye, nobility,” He said, looking back at Basilwether House.

I looked back as well. “Goodbye, arranged marriage,”

“Goodbye, House of Lords,”

“Goodbye, family.”

He turned to me, a small smile on his face.

I breathed out.

“No time for sentiment, right?” I turned.

“Right.” He pressed his forehead to mine.

And there was a moment.

Just a small moment.

And that tiny, insignificant moment has been stuck in my head ever since.

“Ready?” He asked, squeezing my hand tight.

I smiled. “As I’ll ever be.”

And with a smile, we ran.

~


	10. nine: pink and white roses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no proofreading club, baybee

By the time they noticed, we were already on a train.

“Two to London, please,” I exchanged the money for the tickets.

“Have a good trip,” the man greeted as we walked past.

l looked over to Tewksbury, who was smiling at the moon.

“There’s no going back now,” He said, returning my gaze. “Ready?”

I stepped into the next train carriage, holding out my hand for him to take.

“I am,” I smiled at him. “Are you?”

He bit his lip.

“As I’ll ever be,”

He took my hand.

And we were off.

~

The train ride was uneventful. Nothing and no one notable, except for the woman in a nightgown sleeping in one of the train cabins. We decided not to sit in that one.

We got off at London.

He was beaming when we stepped off the train.

_The moonlight needs to stop hitting his face like that._

“Do you know of a lodging, William?” I asked.

He looked at me, with another look of that _something_ in his eyes again.

“Yes,” He took my hand. “This way, Luke.”

~

The rest of the night was so peaceful.

The city was quiet, yet still awake.

You could hear the slight trotting of horses and the faint crackle of laughter, wherever you were.

We settled into our shared room. The man at the front desk gave us a room with one bed, presuming that we were brothers. Tewksbur– I’m sorry, _William_ , almost protested, but it would’ve only raised suspicion, so I stepped on his foot.

_“Ow.”_

_“Oh, do shut up, William.”_

Tewksbury was gazing out the open window, staring at the sky, his eyes falling to the city horizon every now and then.

“Are you done?” He asked.

I slipped on the nightgown. “Just about,”

“May I turn now?”

“One second,” I turned to my bag and pulled out a book. Brown, hardcover. “Alright, go ahead,”

He turned to me and pointed to the book. “What’s that?”

I could barely contain a smile. “Open it,”

He raised an eyebrow and took the book.

His hands found their way to the middle of the book, prying it open.

A smile.

He pulled out three flat blooms of red tulips.

“You brought them all the way here?” He asked, shutting the book.

“Of course I did,” I replied, taking one bloom. “I would never have seen them pressed if I left them behind,”

I could swear he was blushing.

“Well,” He started, turning to his own bag. “I brought something of note as well,”

“Hm?” I attempted to look over his shoulder. “What is it?”

He lightly pushed me away. “Shush, now, ______, you’ll ruin the surprise–”

“Don’t call me that here!” I tried to whisper. “Who knows how thin these walls are?”

“I found it!”

“What, what?”

Tewksbury turned around, hiding something behind his back.

“Well?” I raised an eyebrow.

He brought out a folded piece of paper.

“You did not,”

“Oh, but I did,” He replied, unfolding the sketch.

I snatched it from him.

“Oh dear,” I looked at it closer. “You kept this?”

It was the sketch I drew of him. One of his legs sticking out, leaning on his right arm, staring at the moon as he recited _Romeo and Juliet._

“Of course I did,” He sat on the bed. “I told you, it was the first time anyone has drawn me.”

I flushed and pushed him onto the bed. “Sleep.”

He smirked and turned to his side.

I turned around to place the sketch somewhere in one of my notebooks.

“Goodnight,” I heard him say.

“Goodnight, flower boy,” I replied.

“ _Your_ fmow….” I heard amongst rustling.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

~

“ _God_ , I need to wake up earlier,” I muttered, sitting up.

“It’s fine,” Tewksbury replied, sitting by the window. “You seemed tired,”

“I’m _always_ tired,” I replied, getting off of the bed.

He chuckled.

“Can you look out the window, please?” I asked. “I need to change,”

“Go ahead,” I heard the rustling of paper.

“Is that the news?” I asked, dumping out everything in my bag.

“Yes,” He replied, turning over another page. “I haven’t found a missing persons advert yet,”

“Good,” I picked out a muted color dress. “Anything interesting?”

“No, not really,” He said.

I was in my undergarments now.

“Are you done yet?”

“Almost,” _Thank god this dress is easy to get into._ “Do you have a plan for today?”

“Well, yes and no,”

“What is that supposed to mean?” _I am finished! Finally._ “You can turn around now.”

“Well, I know where–” His eyes widened at the sight of me. “Oh, wow.”

“That bad, is it?” I scoffed.

“T-that’s not–”

“–Anyway,” I interrupted. “You were saying? I’ll unpack my things as you speak,”

He cleared his throat. “Well, um, I know where to go, but, um, I’m not sure how to ask them–yours specifically–for a job,”

“What do you mean?” I folded up my undergarments and put them in my bag. Everything else was in semi-organized piles.

“I’m going to be working at the Covent Garden Market again,” I heard him get up from his chair and start to pace. “And I found a nice tea shop, The Tea Rooms,”

“Ooh, that sounds fancy,” I said, placing all my writing materials on the fragile-looking writing desk. “I do hope your expectations aren’t too high,”

“They’re not, don’t worry, it’s just that I don’t know how to approach them and ask,”

“I think I can handle,” I said, placing my bag to the side of the desk. “Go unpack, you sound stressed.”

“And that I am,” He said. Rustling sounds followed. “Will you be able to?”

“It can’t be _that_ hard,” I turned around to look at his sitting figure.

“Well,” He scratched the back of his head. “ _I_ had some difficulty,”

“You’re _that_ nincompoop, Tewksb– William.”

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

“You’ll understand soon enough.”

He scoffed.

~

_The Tea Rooms, Elise Street, East London._

“Here it is,” Tewksbury stopped in front of a shop. “The Tea Rooms!”

The smile he had was infectious. _Stop._

It was a nice little shop, blue and white seemed to be its colors.

Walking in, there were people sat on various circular tables situated everywhere. The smell of different kinds of tea and pastries infected the air. In a good way.

“Hello,” I greeted the waitress. “Is there any way I could be hired?” I whispered.

She smiled at me. “Leave the boy, and we can talk,”

I turned to Tewksbury and stuck my tongue out at him. “You heard her,”

He rolled his eyes and left.

The waitress told me to wait in the kitchen as she left to go up the stairs.

Only then I noticed the thuds and shouts.

It rattled the chandeliers only a little bit, and when I looked over at the customers, they didn’t seem to mind.

So I ignored it.

~

Minutes later, the waitress came back with a lady with black hair.

“Hello there, love,” She was dressed in semi-formal attire, which consisted of a loosely fitting dress and an apron. “I’m Edith Grayston. I heard you were looking for a job?”

I nodded. “'Name’s Emma Cook,”

The waitress left the room holding a small plate.

“Well, Emma Cook, what can you do?”

“I can wait tables, if that’s what you’re looking for,”

“Can you cook?”

I chuckled. “My name may be Cook, but I can’t be in a kitchen without starting a fire,”

Edith laughed. “Well then, waiting tables it is, you can start training today, or tomorrow if you’d like,”

“Of course!” I smiled. “I can start today, but I’ll have to check up on someone first,”

“Is it the boy you came with?” The waitress asked, poking her head in from just outside the kitchen.

“Admittedly.” I looked at my shoes. “He can be quite hopeless at times,”

~

“William!” I called out.

I had spotted the boy talking to a girl at a flower stall.

He saw me and waved back. “Emma!”

“I thought your name was Thomas?” I heard.

“William’s for close friends,” Was the reply. I may have melted a bit at that comment.

I walked over to him. The girl placed some coins in his hands, took the bouquet he was holding, and left.

“Not as bad as I thought,” I nodded at him.

“I’d like to think I’m doing pretty well,” He took a flower from behind him and offered it to me. It was a white rose, in full bloom, almost.

“What does this one mean?” I asked as I took it.

“Either purity, ‘I am worthy of you’, or a secret admirer,” He smirked.

“Which one did you intend?” I chuckled, holding the rose close to my chest.

He smiled and put a finger to his lips. “You’ll never know,”

I rolled my eyes and picked up a pink rose. “This one is healing, innocence, or first love, is it?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Yes,”

“I’d like to buy one,” I said, holding it out for him to take.

“For whom?” He asked, holding it up to his nose.

I smiled and dropped a few coins in his other hand.

“You’ll never know,” I mocked.

“I can’t believe you,” He said.

“Goodbye now, William,” I laughed. “I have a job training to get to!” I started walking away.

“Congratulations on that, by the way!” He called out.

“Thank you! Bye!” I was a few meters away from him now.

~

I arrived at the Tea Rooms with a white rose in my hair. Its stem was poking out of the bottom of the bun, but I didn’t mind.

“You look happy, dear,” The waitress greeted.

“I am, madam,”

“It’s Elizabeth, dear Emma,”

“Of course, Elizabeth,”

Elizabeth looked at the trays behind her, teacups and pastries stacked on them.

“Now,” She said, “Where to begin?”

~

“That was _difficult._ ” I complained, taking up the entire bed.

“Waiting tables can’t be _that_ hard,” Tewksbury said. He was changing on the other side of the room and my eyes were glued to the ceiling. The whole time. Yes. The entire time. I swear.

“Well, it is!” I kicked my legs. “Balancing an entire tray with two cups on it is hard enough! Why did they make it _more_ difficult!”

“Did you break something?”

Silence.

“Oh dear, _did you?_ ”

“I… may have… chipped… a teapot…”

“It hasn’t even been a day!” He said, walking towards the bed.

I looked his way. It seems my predicament amused him.

“It’s a wonder you haven’t been let go!”

“It was training, Te– Will!”

“You’re a disaster.” He smiled.

“It’s a family trait.” I smiled back.

There was another moment there, just a few short seconds of us smiling at each other, him leaning over me.

“Now move,” I pushed him away. “My turn.”

I heard a sigh.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing,”

“That’s what you said _last night_ and it truly isn’t,” I untied the corset. “What is it?”

“Now’s not the time,” He said, sitting down at the desk.

“Whatever you say,”

~

_It’s been a month now, and it’s a wonder no one has come looking for us._

_Or that we’ve managed to live with each other for this long._

_But, oh my, am I fine with it._


	11. ten: missing, but with you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sleep deprived help me goodbye
> 
> also i barely proofread this kflgskl

The next day, I was on a break, so I had decided to visit Tewksbury at Covent Garden Market. The smell of flowers got stronger and stronger after each step, I observed, my nose in the air.

I turned a corner that was right in front of the stall, fully intending to continue walking, but–

“Hello,” The customer greeted.

_Oh no._

The customer was facing him, not me, but I think I could tell.

The customer was a brunette wearing a particular green dress that I regularly saw being worn in the halls of my home.

“Emilia?” I whispered to myself. I turned around and turned the corner again, lingering around the corner to listen.

“H-” Tewksbury turned. “H-hello,” He stuttered, taking a step back.

Emilia tilted her head. “Do I know you?”

Tewksbury cleared his throat and shook his head. “I-I, um, I don’t think I’ve ever met you before,”

The brunette nodded and wandered around the stall.

“Are you, um, looking for anything in particular?” Tewksbury asked, fidgeting with a rose.

“Do you have a flower that symbolizes thoughts of absent ones?” Sh asked, facing him.

I could see a little bit of her face then, and were those bags under her eyes?

Tewksbury also gulped a bit, I think.

“A-ah,” He picked up a small flower that seemed to have many petals, and was generally round in shape. “You’d need a bouquet of zinnias, then.”

He handed one to Emilia. “Thoughts of an absent friend, lasting affection, daily remembrance.”

She examined the flower, looking at it from quite a few different angles, and decided to place it behind her ear.

“I’ll take a bouquet, then,” She said. “With a few red gardenias mixed in, please,”

Tewksbury raised an eyebrow. “This friend of yours had a secret love?” He asked.

“Perhaps,” Emilia breathed. “Her family had her all set up, though. So real love was truly out of the picture.”

He seemed to divert his eyes from hers too quickly. “Is that so?”

She sighed. “She ran away a few days ago.”

Tewksbury nodded, as if telling her to go on.

“The boy who I suspect was sending her red gardenias also went missing that same day.”

Tewksbury had conjured up many zinnias and had started taking a few red gardenias. “Mhm?”

“It seems her family is trying to let her live that life, as well.”

“Oh?” I whispered, moving a few steps closer.

“And what of the boys' family?” Tewksbury asked, wrapping the flowers.

“It seems that they want the same. As is with the family that she was supposed to marry into. They all want the same for both of them,” She stopped to look him in the eye. “They want them to be happy.”

I bit my lip.

_There is no way that it would be that easy._

“That sounds lovely,” Tewksbury said, handing Emiilia the bouquet. “Is anyone opposed?”

“Good question,” I muttered, only a stall away from them both now.

“Only her father and his uncle.” Emilia dropped some coins into Tewksburys' hand. “But other than that, there isn’t really any conflict, just their family missing them.”

I turned to face Tewksbury.

He smiled and waved me over.

Emilia turned around to face me.

She almost dropped the bouquet.

“Hello, Emilia,” I slowly walked over, not knowing what to do. “It’s been a few days,”

A smile grew on her face. “It has,” She paused. “Um?”

“Emma,” I whispered.

“It has, Emma,” She went in for a hug.

I returned it.

“I missed your hugs, Em,” I lowered my voice. “So much.”

A chuckle from my left ear. “As did I,” She said. “It’s a shame that we can’t hug more often,”

_It truly is._

“Now go, Emilia,” I whispered, pulling out of the hug. “Go tell them we’re okay.”

She nodded.

Looking into my eyes, she whispered a goodbye,

and left.

~

“What are you doing here?” Tewksbury asked softly, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Are you alright?”

I looked up at him, eyes welling up.

I felt that if I breathed, I wouldn’t stop.

His eyebrows knitted together and pulled me into his chest.

I cried as quietly as I could.

“Shh, it’s alright, it’s okay,” He rubbed my back with one hand as the other held me close. “It will be okay.”

“I–” A voice crack. “I hope so.”

“Come, come,” He led me deeper into the market and into a back room.

“I– I have–”

“Take as long as you need, ______.” Tewksbury said, sitting me down on a burlap sack in the room.

“I’m not finished with my shift–”

“It’s okay, cry it out first,” He sat in front of me. “No point in waiting tables if you’ll drop everything in the process,”

“O–okay,”

Oh boy, was he right.

A cry helped out a lot.

It may have only been a few days, but it takes a lot to decide to pack up and leave everything.

I may have overreacted, but I know that I decided to leave for a reason.

Emilia may have only been there for flowers, but instead she saw me.

She made me remember the things I left behind.

The _people_ I left behind.

I’ll have to live with that, though.

That feeling of _I’ll never truly be complete._

And, honestly, as bad as that sounds, I think I can.

As long as I’m not alone.

~

I stayed in bed almost the entire day after working.

Tewksbury went out to buy food, leaving me under the bedsheets with a book.

Under the warm sheets, wind blowing outside, reading a book, no one else around.

Which isn’t that bad.

_Knock knock._

“Is that you, William?” I asked.

“Yes! Could you open the door, please? My hands are a bit full,”

“Oh dear, how much did you buy?” I asked, getting up.

“Enough to last us for a bit, and a little more for today,” I heard.

“What do you mean, for today?” I opened the door–

–And was greeted by a bag filled with foodstuffs.

“Oh. Wow.” I stepped aside.

“It’s a lot, I know–” He placed the bag down with an _oof_ “–but I thought that I could cook something up for you, to make you feel better!”

He turned to face me, a big, goofy smile on his face. “What do you think?”

“You’d do that for me?” I asked, looking him up and down.

“Of course!” He stepped closer. “Something sweet or savory?” He asked.

I hugged him.

“ _Oof–_ well, that doesn’t really answer my question–”

“Sweet, please!” I said, squeezing him tighter.

He kissed the top of my head.

“Of course,”

~

The smell of fruits came wafting into the room a few hours later, as did a flour-covered Tewksbury.

I looked over to the door.

There he was, a gigantic smile on his face, flour on his hands, face, and apron, holding a pie.

“You–” I pointed to his apron. “–You have flour there,”

He looked down.

“Oh–”

And brushed it off with his free hand.

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “You’re alright, Te– William,” –Silently cursed myself for the slip up– “You can clean up after,”

He walked over to the small table by the window and set it down.

With a smile.

_God, that smile._

“You seem very proud of it,” I pointed out, and sat down across his chair.

“I am,” He said. “An old apple custard pie recipe,”

“‘Old’?” I raised an eyebrow.

“My mothers' childhood, kind of old,” He said, slicing into the pie. “It’s the best apple pie I have ever tasted.”

“It better be, especially if you’re the one saying that,”

“What does that mean?” He asked.

His head was close to mine, just a few breaths away, so I took the opportunity I saw.

I ran my fingers through his hair.

“Oh– um–” He put the knife down.

“Sorry,” I muttered. “It just– it looks so soft,”

“Not as soft as I’d like it to be,” He admitted, lowering himself to the floor.

I chuckled. “Still soft, though.” I said, running my hand through his hair again.

He looked up at me.

I caught his gaze.

“What?” I asked, separating his hair into small sections.

A teeny, tiny smile creeped onto his face.

“If I could draw, I’d draw you right now.”

“Why not try?”

~


	12. eleven: a peaceful day off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again: no proofreading, sleepy, yes.

The sun streamed in through the barely covered window. I opened my eyes to see the ceiling above, marked with small spots. I turned my head to see Tewksburys' sleeping figure, his chest rising and falling on a slow but steady rhythm.

I sat up and stretched my arms.

“What a morning,” I yawned, my bones falling into place.

I looked over at Tewksbury again. His hair was all over the place, his blanket over his face.

I got up from the bed as quietly as I could and walked over to the window.

“Sorry,” I whispered, sweeping the drapes away.

“..mmm… hey…” I heard a groan coming from the bed.

“We have the day off,” I sat at the desk. “Might as well make the most of it.”

I scratched a few things down in my notebook.

‘ _Saturday. We have the day off. Let’s see how this goes._ ’

“..nooo…..” He said, voice muffled under a pillow. “..sleep..”

I looked up. “You know what?” I set the pen down. “Good point.”

I fell back on the bed. “But only until noon, okay? I’d like to go on a picnic.”

Tewksbury clutched my hand. “..okay..sleep now…”

I climbed back under the covers. “Okay,”

We slept a little bit longer than that.

~

Big Ben chimed once when we finally awoke.

Tewksbury was out of the room by then presumably cooking.

I took the opportunity to change.

A small summer dress and a hat was all I could think of wearing.

_Knock knock._

“May I come in?”

“One minute,” I called, tying up the boot laces.

Tewksbury was the one at the door, holding a picnic basket.

“Ooh, what’s in there?” I asked, tightening the laces.

He showed me a peek of its' contents.

Various pastries and pies, all wrapped, and a few fruits here and there.

“Oh wow,” I said, resisting the urge to reach in and grab one.

Tewksbury smirked. “Oh wow, indeed.”

“The bakery down the street, I presume?”

“Of course,” He handed me the basket. “There’s no way I could have baked all these in half an hour,”

“Alright then,” I said, walking out towards the kitchen. “Now go change, I’ll wait out here,”

~

I couldn’t help myself.

But oh my, was it worth it.

_These pastries really are the best I’ve ever tasted._

The crust was the perfect kind of flaky, and its filling complementes it beautifully.

_Perfect!_

I climbed up the stairs to thank Tewksbury.

I walked in.

_I forgot to knock._

My eyes widened at the sight.

_I forgot to knock!_

I can’t describe with any words how I felt, what I saw, or _what_ it was in particular that I felt, but I can definitely tell you that I all but ran out of that room.

My breath shortened and my eyes were glued to the table.

_Oh god._

I wiped away the crumbs by my mouth.

_Oh **god!**_

~

I cannot lie, the sight was not dreadful in the slightest.

And it wasn’t like I didn’t enjoy it.

But that isn’t the point.

The point is that now, I was picking out books from the shelf, as calmly as I could.

“Sorry,” I tried.

“No worries,” I heard a smirk in his voice, the cheeky boy. “How does the coat look?”

I turned to face him.

He was wearing one of my coats, one that was particularly big on me, but seemed to perfectly fit him.

It was blue, edging on grey.

That color really suited him.

“It looks great,” I said. “You’re just missing something,”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Like what?”

I picked a white rose from the vase near the window.

“Like a rose,” I said, placing it in the front pocket.

I looked up to see his blazing red face.

“I, um, well, you–” He moved away to get another rose. “You, you’re– um, yes.” He tucked it behind my ear.

I couldn’t help but smile at how cute that was.

_Cute?_

_Oh dear._

~

All this and we haven’t even left our lodging yet.

We did eventually, with a picnic basket and a book bag.

Him holding my hand.

Me holding it back.

_My heart needs to stop doing that._

_As does my stomach._

We made our way to the riverbank, talking about nothing and everything.

“Do you miss them?” I asked when no one was around.

A sigh. “Sometimes,” He looked up. “But I don’t miss politics.”

“I understand that,” I nodded. “But what about your family?”

“My Mother and Uncle can handle themselves, when they aren’t worried,” He said. “My grandmother, well, I haven’t really talked to her since, you know,”

I nodded.

“That’s really it,” He said, shrugging. “Your family and the Hills were basically a part of my family as well,”

A smile grew on my face as I thought of the Hills. “How do you think Anthony and Stephen are?”

“I can only hope they can hide without our assistance,” He chuckled.

“They’ll do fine if my siblings stick around,” I laughed. “Will can lie straight through his teeth without Mother or Father noticing, Andrew knows exactly what to say to get people out of any situation, and Sophie, well, she can bet anyone to a pulp if need be.”

Tewksbury laughed. “I’m a little bit jealous, you know?”

“Hm? Jealous of?”

“Those with siblings,” He sighed.

“More nuisance, more happiness, I say,” I smiled.

~

We picked our spot a few metres away from the riverbank.

I rested my head on Tewksburys' lap and picked up a book. He picked up a book with one hand, a pastry in the other. Every other chapter he finished, we switched places. He was in my lap at the moment, looking up at the clouds.

“Look,” He pointed. “That one looks like a carriage,”

I followed his line of sight. “How?” I squinted. “It looks like a pumpkin?”

I looked back down at his pouting face.

“It looks like a carriage…”

I rolled my eyes and returned to my book.

~

He was still a little bit upset by the time I finished the page.

I shook my head and pressed my lips to his forehead.

“Get over it,” I said, looking away.

~

I truly don’t know how to express the things I felt whenever he kissed me on my cheek or my forehead. I returned them, of course, but it only intensified the butterflies in my stomach and the flutters in my heart.

A leap whenever his face was too close,

A shaky breath whenever he smirked,

A blink to the floor whenever he tried something,

A red face whenever he whispered something in my ear.

_Oh no._

My eyes widened with the realization.

_I truly am in love._

~

I could hear my heart beat, beat, beating in my ears when he leaned over, an inch away, smiling at me.

So close.

So unbearably close,

I could almost,

_just,_

_almost,_

kiss him.

~

But the opportunity was crushed with the sound of bells.

My eyes widened and I gazed at everything but him.

“Six, six, si–” I stammered. “Six o’clock already?”

Tewksbury scratched the back of his neck. “It, um, it seems that way,”

I hastily placed my book in the bag, snatching a pastry from the picnic basket.

~

The walk was silent on the way home.

To be fair, what were we supposed to say?

If I’m being honest,

A kiss wouldn’t be that bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ngl after i realized i hit 20k words i kinda just gave up help me


	13. twelve: do you know french?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a short chapter, sorry if it’s all over the place :D

_Tewksbury has been on my mind for longer than he should have._

I was helping with the dishes after most of the costumers had gone, my sleeves rolled up, scrubbing with a passion.

“That stupid smile, that stupid look in his eyes, that _stupid_ laugh–”

“Are you alright, Emma?”

I turned around quickly, holding a dripping wet plate in one hand and a scrub brush in the other. “H– hello, Elizabeth,”

Her eyes fell on the mountain of unwashed dishes and cups behind me. “Oh dear.”

I followed her gaze. “Oh dear, indeed,” I sighed.

~

I was on my way to walk Tewksbury home when I noticed something gleaming in a shop window.

I took a step closer to gaze at it some more.

It was a locket, simple, small, and round. It was a golden color, and was hanging from its chain by a little ‘u’ shaped ring that was connected to the sphere on top of the main body. It was open, to display a piece of paper that was perhaps the size of my thumb.

I touched the glass. “Wow.” I sighed.

“A necklace?”

I jumped. “You need to stop doing that!”

Tewksbury smiled. “No, I don’t think I will.” He leaned in to peek at the accessory.

“No, not a necklace,” He corrected. “A locket, is it?”

I nodded. “And a small one, at that,” I tapped the glass. “I could afford that, given a few weeks of saving up wages.”

“What will you put inside?” Tewksbury asked, offering his arm.

I took his arm and started walking. “I don’t know, perhaps a painting of my family?”

“Hm.”

“What?” I asked. “And don’t do that thing where you say it’s nothing. You’ve been saying that for a while now.”

“I’ll tell you when we get back home.”

I looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“I promise!”

We were a few minutes walk away, and we spent the rest of it in relative silence. I could tell something was off about him. Perhaps a cold? Had he gotten bad news?

There was a certain something in the way that he walked, something in the way he blinked a little too much, and something in the way he kept rubbing the back of his neck.

“Hey,” I said, tugging on his arm.

“Y– yes?”

His eyes were stuck to the ground.

“Come on, you’ve never been this way around me.” I said. I placed a finger under his chin and turned his head. “Look at me, Tewkey.”

A tinge of red stained his cheeks. “Well, I mean,” _The neck rubbing again._ “Um, I, don’t know what to tell you.”

We arrived at our door.

“Is it bad?” I asked, opening the door.

“No, not really.”

I walked up the stairs. “Then what’s the problem?”

I heard him struggling to form words.

“I’ll open the door, can I borrow your keys?” I held my hand out.

He nodded.

“It’s, um, no, not a bad thing–”

The door swung into our room with ease.

“–But?”

“It’s, um, hard to explain.”

I took off my boots and set them by the door.

“D– do you know french?” He asked.

I looked up. “What, the language?”

He closed the door and took off his grey coat. “Yes?”

“Only a little,” I sat down on the bed. “Why?”

“Well, to put it simply,” He said, sitting down beside me. “Um,”

Tewksbury.

Another small moment that lasted forever.

He looked me in the eyes, his hands on mine.

“Je t’aime.” He said.

I blinked.

_Did I hear that right?_

My eyes widened.

“I– I have a, um, a very limited understanding of french, but, I– I know that you–”

I paused to form a coherent sentence.

“You just said ‘I love you’, right?”

The world seemed to stop.

Me and my thoughts.

That I was voicing out loud.

“I– I know that ‘je’ is ‘I’, right? And that, that, that, ‘aime’ is ‘love’, and, and ‘tue’ is ‘you’ when speaking to a woman– and– oh dear– I–”

I covered my mouth with a hand.

I noticed him avoiding my gaze, but I could still make out a furious blush on his cheeks.

I scratched the back of my head. “Well, um it– it’s not like I– like I don’t feel the same,” I said.

Heat.

Hot.

I fanned my face with my hands.

“What?”

“I said that I love you too, you idiot.”

He looked at me again.

“Stupid doe eyes.” I said. “Come here.”

Tewksbury. You idiot.

I want to kiss you.

So I did.

~

“I’ve always thought that my standards for people were too high,” I said.

The sun had set a long time ago now, and we were both lying on the bed.

“What do you mean by that?” He asked, turning to face me.

I sighed. “I mean romantically, you idiot.”

“Oh.”

“But then–” I crossed my arms. “–I met you.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “And?”

I hate that he made it hard not to stare.

The candlelight streamed in from behind him, iilluminating his silhouette, which was halfway covered in a blanket. The edge of his hair glowed where it met the orange light. It was quite a chilly night, so I moved only slightly closer to him.

“And,” I started, my voice lower. “I realized that maybe this daft teenage boy _was_ my standard.”

I heard him smile, accompanied by a small ‘tsk’.

“Well,” He said, “Remember when we were out on that stroll the other day?”

I nodded.

“When you said that more nuisance was more happiness?”

I nodded again.

“Well, I don’t have any siblings, as you know.” He sat up and rested on the headboard of the bed.

I joined him, slightly aware of where this was going.

“And that, um, kind of made my life a little more dull than yours.”

“How so?”

“Well, um, aside from, uh, the gardeners and workers and butlers, I never got to experience what it was like, to be around others my age. Not, uh, not on a daily basis, anyway. I still met other nobles.”

“Mhm,”

“So, when I met Enola, I um, my state of mind was that I would never return home, on any conditions.”

“This was before you knew your grandmother was out for you?”

He fiddled with his thumbs. “Yes.” He sighed. “If I’m being honest, I still didn’t want to, after everything.”

I scoffed a bit. “I don’t expect you to, right after getting shot at.”

“We may have put her in her place, but that didn’t change my mind.” He looked straight into my eyes, a sad smile on his face.

“Don’t you miss home?” I asked. “I know I do.”

He laughed a little. “Funny thing about that,” He took my hand in his.

_“You’re_ home now.” 


End file.
